Star Fox: Regime
by sleddog116
Summary: After the defeat of the Aparoids, Fox and his team must defeat the totalitarian regime of the Lylat System's new martial-law government. Rated T for violent situations and mild to moderate thematic elements. No OFCs. Comments and suggestions appreciated.
1. Prologue and Chapter 1

Star Fox: Regime – a fan fiction by Wolf Reynolds  
"Star Fox" and all related characters and trademarks are © Nintendo, Inc.

**IMPORTANT: I do not own any of these characters; the story is mine, but it is based off of the _Star Fox _series, which is copyrighted to and is the intellectual property of Nintendo. All other trademarks are the properties of their respective owners. **

**Background Info: **I don't want to give too much background info, since most of it is given in the prologue, but my basic statement is simple. This is an alternate sequel to _Star Fox: Assault_. I am writing this story because I found _Star Fox: Command_ to be sadly lacking. I basically pretended that Command never happened. There are some parts that reference Command, but for all intents and purposes, the audience can forget that Command ever happened (since that's what most of the true Star Fox fans are trying to do anyway). I kept this clean, but there's lots of action. It's rated T for some violence and some VERY mild language (PG at most). I don't get into the whole "OMG couples I like totally support and stuff", but there is a romance in this between Fox and Krystal (it seemed appropriate), but it is completely G-rated, so nothing suggestive or risqué. I included the prologue with Chapter 1 because it didn't make too much sense to have it by itself (it's basically a recap of the series so far). One other thing that I think is worth mentioning is that this fiction contains NO original fan characters (OFCs) - in other words, all of the characters in this fic (with the exception of a few bit-part "extras") come directly from the Star Fox canon. That being said, let me just reiterate - this story picks up _exactly_ where Assault left off. Enjoy!

Prologue:

Following the collapse of the Androssian Uprising after the reintegration of Planet Sauria, the Lylat System was invaded and infested by a cyber-organic race of replicators known as Aparoids. Coordinating their counterstrike with the Cornerian Deep Space Defense Fleet, the commando-for-hire team called Star Fox was able to eliminate this grave threat to the Lylat System, but with pyrrhic losses to the Cornerians. After the destruction of the Aparoid menace, the Lylat System was ready to return to normality. During the crisis, however, the Lylatian capital of Corneria City was attacked. Though the Star Fox team was successful in repelling the enemies from the planet, the damage was devastatingly heavy, and the entire Lylat System was placed under martial law. Pepper, the general who normally commanded the contingent of the Lylatian military in the Cornerian sector, was still in the hospital recovering from severe aparoidedation. The time was ripe for an enemy to hit Corneria while she was down.

The _Great Fox_, the pride and joy of the Star Fox team, was sacrificed in order to defeat the Queen Aparoid and neutralize the threat. The _Great Fox_ was more than just a ship to the Star Fox team; she was their flagship – she was their home. To Fox McCloud, the leader of the team, she was all that he had left of his late lamented father, James. Even though Fox had avenged James McCloud's murder, he was consumed by bitterness. He wasn't sure where that bitterness would lead him – his father's murderers were gone. Andross had died by Fox's own hand. Pigma Dengar, the mercenary who betrayed the Star Fox team, had met an appropriate end when he was consumed by the Aparoids. The only one left was Dengar's employer, Wolf O'Donnell, and Wolf… Fox couldn't kill Wolf. Wolf had saved him from the Aparoids back in Corneria City – not to mention the very survival of Star Wolf, Wolf's team of mercenaries, was uncertain.

In the face of these circumstances, the exhausted members of the Star Fox team found themselves in a field of cobalt meteors – the only remains of the Aparoid homeworld. They couldn't get home to Corneria from there; the Arwings, their space fighters, weren't powerful enough to make a journey of that length. They had always depended on the _Great Fox_, and all that was left of it was the escape pod which Peppy Hare and ROB had used to escape before the ship's powerful plasma engine had exploded. The only other option was to go back to Corneria through a gate transmission, but since they depended upon the _Great Fox_ to initiate a gateway transfer, there was no way to get through a gateway without contacting the Cornerian Orbital Gate Station – difficult to do since their com lines depended on the _Great Fox _to relay transmissions over anything more than ship-to-ship communications, and since the Gate Station's receiver array had been severely damaged in the attack. Stranded and unable to get home, the weary pilots made their way to the only sanctuary of civilization in the sector – the Battle Base Meteor.

CHAPTER 1

_Greyson Defense Force Base – Area Six, the "Battle Base Meteor" – 2330 hours, local time._

The Battle Base Meteor appeared to be little more than a dead, black rock floating through the endless etherium. Upon closer inspection, however, this black rock was not as lifeless as it appeared at first glance. The lights of Greyson Defense Force Base and the surrounding settlement shimmered like pinpricks, making the asteroid difficult to distinguish against the background of stars. Despite its proximity to the Aparoid homeworld, this remote little outpost had somehow been able to come through the crisis without any significant damage. It was a Defense Force Base in name only; after Andross was defeated on Venom ten years earlier, the base had been reduced to little more than a listening station.

Fox McCloud hoped that the base's skeleton crew would be sufficient to land their dog-tired team. Their Arwings had all taken quite a beating during the final battle on the Aparoid homeworld, and it had been two days since any of them had gotten any sleep. This was one of those rare moments when Fox hoped his reputation would precede him. Even though he and his team weren't technically part of the Cornerian Army, they had always been respected and accommodated by the military. Fox didn't particularly relish the thought of staying at Greyson DFB for very long; it was known as a sort of haven for the dregs of the Lylat System. The Defense Force maintained solid control of the base, but the neighboring settlement was mostly lawless. Unfortunately, the team was out of other options; their Arwings were practically in tatters, their flagship was gone, and they were all about to collapse from fatigue. In spite of their exhaustion, the members of the team looked proud as they flew in near-perfect formation with a battered escape pod taking the rear position.

Fox radioed Peppy Hare in the escape pod, saying, "Peppy, do you think we're close enough to make contact without the relay?"

There was nothing but static for a few seconds, then Peppy's familiar, guttural voice came over the com line. "I think so, Fox. You'd better try, though," he was interrupted briefly by static, "I think we're losing transmission power over here."

"I'll try, Peppy," Fox smiled. He felt as fortunate as he had ever felt for still being able to hear that grandfatherly voice. Peppy had been Fox's mentor ever since the death of James McCloud. When Fox had come of age, it had been Peppy who taught him how to fly. It had been Peppy who taught him combat maneuvers. Peppy had shared space academy knowledge with him, but more than that, he had taught Fox about life – he had practically raised him ever since his father had been killed. Back in the last battle, Peppy had been extremely lucky to escape with his life, and _that _was after a close call back in Corneria City. Try as he might, though, Fox couldn't fault Peppy for his seemingly-reckless behavior back on Corneria – it had saved General Pepper's life, after all. Peppy had basically adopted Fox, and now he had extended his paternal protectiveness towards Krystal… Krystal! Fox looked over in the direction of her Arwing. It still looked fine, but he felt panicky. He just had to hear her voice – he had to make sure. He opened the com again, "Krystal? Are you still with us? Krystal?"

The holographic image of Krystal's face appeared on the com in front of him. He sighed with relief when he heard her delicate voice over his headset. "I'm just fine, Fox," she said; she paused for a moment when she heard his heavy breathing, "Fox, are you all right?"

Fox could have wept for joy just hearing her voice. He exhaled loudly and said with a smile, "I'm just fine. Never better." It was the truth; even though their equipment was in shambles and their countenances disheveled, their resolve had not been broken. As Fox looked through his canopy and saw his team flying together – all five of them, including the rogue Falco Lombardi – he felt invincible. He opened his channel again, this time hailing the base itself, "Greyson Traffic, this is Star Fox Leader. Please come in. Over."

A static-laced voice came in response as the traffic controller replied to Fox's message. "Star Fox Leader, this is Greyson Space Traffic Control," he said, "We read you loud and clear, Commander McCloud. Over."

"Greyson, We're about seven minutes out," Fox said, "Five spacecraft requesting clearance to land. Repeat, five spacecraft to land. Over."

"Clearance granted, Star Fox Leader. We'll turn the lights on for you and open the oxygen envelope," the controller replied with a smile Fox could hear, "Enter right base, cleared for visual approach. The runway is clear. Repeat, the runway is clear. Welcome to Area Six, Commander. Over."

"Thank you, Greyson," Fox acknowledged the pattern entry instructions, "Fly right base, cleared for VFR approach. Star Fox Leader out." Fox's confidence surged as he cut off his com link. It had taken the death of James McCloud and the defeat of Andross to finally gain respect for the Star Fox team, but they had given every ounce of their strength to elevate themselves as being more than just common mercenary thugs. Fox staunchly resisted any attempts to consolidate the Star Fox team into the Cornerian Army, but he had to admit, he enjoyed being addressed as "Commander". It was an honor his father had been denied – it was an honor rarely accorded to Peppy, even after all he had fought to earn that respect.

It was tempting for Fox to fire his booster and cut down the approach time – if he had been willing to leave his team behind (and concoct the inevitable explanation he would have to give Krystal afterwards), he'd have done it without even a second thought. He didn't like the thought of staying on the base, but he liked the idea of staying up and getting a transmission through to Corneria (which could have taken hours) even less. Fox wanted a good meal, a chance to clean up, a few moments alone with Krystal, and a good night's sleep – not necessarily in that order. He knew the red tape fallout from this Aparoid mess would be plaguing him for the next several days (possibly weeks), and he wanted to close his eyes and forget his troubles, at least for a few hours.

Within a few minutes, the team had finally sighted the runway lights of the battle base. As always, Fox waited for all of the others before landing. As team leader, he felt that he was responsible for the safety of his teammates, so he made sure they had landed safely before he throttled back and came to a halt on the end of the runway. They just sat there in their ships for a few moments – they needed a little time to adjust to the asteroid's simulated gravity field, and they had to wait for the all-clear while the controllers closed the oxygen envelope. As soon as the signal came, Fox and the other pilots opened their canopies and climbed out onto the tarmac. The door in the back of Peppy's escape pod opened with a hiss of hydraulics, and Peppy walked down the steps which extended from the pod.

He had bandages on one side of his face; he had suffered very slight aparoidedation when he crashed into the homeworld, but ROB (the team's robot) had tended to his wounds and brought him through with nothing but a few scratches. Krystal rushed up to Peppy and wrapped her arms around him; she was so glad to see him breathing that she nearly suffocated him.

Fox chuckled as he saw, then said, "Hey. You never hugged me like that."

Krystal was overcome with a wave of raw emotion; so many things were racing through her mind, she was a bundle of raw nerves. She rushed to Fox's waiting arms and cried loudly into his shoulder. Fox held her tightly, not sure whether to try and console her or just let her release her pent-up feelings. Falco looked over at Fox and gave him a typical wiseguy smirk. Fox looked at Falco, then back at Krystal, then back at Falco. Not knowing how to respond to Falco's tacit sarcasm, he just shrugged and held Krystal even more tightly. After a few minutes, she was back to being her usual happy self, smiling up at him.

Fox looked down at the wet spot on his flight suit where she had cried. "At least I shouldn't have to wash this now," he laughed. She laughed along with him.

Their laughter was interrupted by a husky female voice Fox knew all too well, "Well, well. Look who's here. If it isn't Fox McCloud and his gang of flyboys." Fox looked over in the direction of the voice and saw its source. A vixen wearing an oily jumpsuit came out of the building into the area where they had landed. "And flygirl? Who's this, Fox?"

"This is my fian.. This is my girlfriend, Krystal," he answered hesitantly, "Krystal, this is Fara Phoenix."

"That's Fara Grey, my dear Krystal," Fara said, taking Fox by surprise.

"Whoa, wait," he held up his hands in surprise, "Fara Grey?"

"What did you expect?" Fara said indignantly, "Bill loves me more than you ever did."

Fox looked sheepishly at Krystal, and he began to grow angry. He was annoyed by this sudden bombshell Fara had the nerve to drop on him, and especially on Krystal – she hadn't done anything to deserve this public confrontation. _Well,_ Fox thought, _If she wants to play the pushy "vixen scorned" card, I can play her little game just as well. _Fox's voice turned to ice as he said, "You mean to tell me that Commander Bill Grey fell for _you_?"

She pushed right back, "That's _Captain_ Bill Grey, and yes, he did 'fall for me'. He said he loved me, and _all_ of him was with me, not running off on some vendetta. Now, enough about that. I'm the mechanic here, so what say I fix up these scrap-piles, huh? I think I know my way around them."

"We've made a lot of modifications since then," Fox said cooly, "You'd better have Slippy give you a hand," Fox turned to face the rest of his team and said, "Let's go – I want to find the duty officer and check in. Maybe we can find some way to get off this rock and back to Corneria. Slippy, you stay here and help repair the battle damage." Slippy nodded; he wanted to get inside and take some down time as badly as anyone, but he knew better than to argue with Fox at a time like this. Krystal, grateful for the opportunity Fox provided for escape, took him by the hand as he walked off in a huff. Krystal shot an arctic glance back in the direction of Fox's former flame.

Fara frowned for a minute, but then she smiled and said, "All right, Fox. You win this round. But I'm not down for the count just yet."

Fox pretended not to hear her; he just kept on walking. He didn't have the energy to deal with Fara - he was fortunate that he'd had enough sense to tell Krystal about her in the early days of their relationship. He could only imagine how she'd have taken it if Fara had just blurted things out without Krystal even knowing who she was. One look from Krystal told Fox that she needed no explanation. She wouldn't have shown it if Fara was still watching, but she actually found the whole thing somewhat amusing. Fox tried to push Fara out of his mind. _That _was something he was just too busy to mull over – she was apparently still bitter with him, even though _she_ left _him_, and then there was Bill… How could Bill have done something like that? Bill was not quite the renegade that Fox was, but he was still such a free spirit. Why Bill would get married at all without telling Fox was beyond Fox's ability to reason, but especially to get married to one of _his_ past relationships. Fox thought he was completely over Fara, but he still felt betrayed. He and Bill had been close friends on and off ever since their days in the Academy. It wasn't like Bill to leave Fox out of the loop.

Because of the lateness of the hour, Fox wasn't able to get in touch with the base commander, but the adjutant commander was still up and about. Fox knocked on the door to the office and was told to enter. The adjutant was actually younger than Fox – Fox remembered seeing him before somewhere, but he couldn't quite put a finger on where. He was wearing a major's insignia, which Fox found odd for one who seemed just barely old enough to be in the military at all, let alone a mid-ranking line officer. The major practically leapt from his chair upon seeing Fox. He greeted Fox heartily with his lightly-accented, tenor voice, saying, "Commander McCloud, as I live and breathe! The CIC told me you had just landed. We just got word that the Aparoids are disintegrating all over the Lylat System – we have you and your team to thank. I knew that if anyone could do it, it would be you."

"I'm sorry," Fox stammered, "Have we met?"

"Not formally," the major replied as he shook Fox's hand and introduced himself, "Major Aldrin Stevens, sir. I had the pleasure of seeing you in action during the Uprising. I was assigned to the Husky Unit on Katina."

"Ah, a pilot. Well congratulations on your… promotion," Fox said hesitantly as he glanced around the room of the remote, scrappy outpost, hoping not to offend Major Stevens.

Stevens seemed to sense what Fox was thinking and bailed him out with a laugh, "No, Commander. I didn't commit some hideous sin to get sent here. After Bill got promoted and got a command, I decided to request a transfer. This place may be a wasteland, but something about the peace and quiet appeals to me. So, what can I do for you?"

"Well, we need some way to get back to Corneria," Fox answered, "Our flagship has been destroyed, so we couldn't gate out or even relay a message. Is there any way you can contact Corneria and have them establish a gate on their end?"

"Under normal circumstances, Commander –"

"Fox," Fox insisted. Major Stevens nodded.

"Under normal circumstances, I'd be happy to, Fox," the major continued, "But that isn't possible. We got an all-points message from the Orbital Gate Station. Their receiver array was knocked out during the attack. They can send messages, but no one can contact them."

"Well, how do we get out of here, then?" Falco spoke up.

"That's where you may have some luck, Commander Lombardi," Stevens said, "Captain Grey is due here first thing in the morning – after this crisis, High Command feels like we should have more men here, just in case this sector starts to heat up a bit. Captain Grey's ship has been assigned to the mission of escorting the troop transports here. He can pick you and your crew up when he swings through and take you home."

"Well…" Fox was unsure about the idea; he wasn't sure he could face Bill Grey after what he had just learned from Fara.

"Fair enough," Krystal cut in, "We'll go with him."

Stevens looked at Fox, waiting for at least tacit approval. Fox just nodded silently. The major went on, "Then it's all settled. I'll give Captain Grey the message when he comes in. In the meantime, I had the duty officer arrange for lodging. You can get a good night's sleep here and be a little more fresh in the morning."

"You should be a general," Peppy sighed, "You like to be on top of things."

"General, nothing," said Falco, "The man ought to be canonized, especially if you feel as bad as you look, Gramps."

Peppy scowled, but he ignored Falco's patronizing remarks. He asked the major, "How do we find our rooms."

"I think they gave you 306 through 311," said Stevens, "But I can't swear to that. Just go up to the CIC and asked the duty officer. He'll tell you where to go."

"Right," Fox said, "Good night, Major."

The major nodded and wished Fox the same. Fox and the rest of the team left the office and made their way to the command information center. Fox didn't want to be stuck on a ship with Bill, and possibly Fara, but he was too tired to think about it. Right now, he was ready to be home, ready to collapse from exhaustion, and ready to put this whole Aparoid mess in the past.


	2. Chapter 2

Star Fox: Regime – a fan fiction by Wolf Reynolds  
"Star Fox" and all related characters and trademarks are © Nintendo, Inc.  
Story © 2009 Wolf Reynolds

CHAPTER 2

_Greyson Defense Force Base – Area Six, the "Battle Base Meteor" – 0842 hours, local time._

Fox awoke slowly in the dark; even though the clock said it was morning, the sun around which the Lylat System orbited was so far away from this far-flung station that it looked like little more than a large, bright star. Fox sat up, rubbed his eyes, and shook the drowsiness from his head. He got back into his flight suit and went out into the hall. No one else was out yet, but Fox didn't want to wake them; they had earned a nice, long rest, and Fox knew they would have to wait for Bill to arrive before they could do anything, anyway. The Arwings needed to be checked, and Fox thought that would be as good a place as any to begin the day. He knew he might run into Fara again, but if he did, he'd at least be alone this time.

As he walked down the harshly-lit hall, Fox tied on his red ascot. Over the years since his father's death, Fox's red kerchief had become his most precious possession; it had belonged to James McCloud. With the _Great Fox_ destroyed, it was even more important to Fox. It brought back memories of riding on his dad's shoulders, taking his first Arwing ride, going with his dad into Corneria City to the antique speeder shows… sometimes the bandana felt like Dad's hands on Fox's shoulders. It gave him brief moments of solace when it was almost as if James McCloud was still with him.

The tang of ozone filled the air as the hydraulic hangar door slid open. Fox went out into the hangar and over to his Arwing. He put his hand on it and rested his head on the "flying fox" emblem emblazoned on the blue stabilizer. This collection of metal and bolts might have been the only friend he had who was as loyal as his team mates. Even during the Sauria Incident, when the Star Fox team was falling apart in disrepair, this devoted partner hadn't let him down. It had helped him destroy Andross, it had helped him avenge his father, it had outmaneuvered the dreaded Wolfen fighters, and it had been with him through the coldest, loneliest parts of deep space.

"Should I leave you two alone?" Fara's voice startled Fox out of his reflections. He turned around suddenly. Fara stood behind the used escape pod with a slight grin. It was obvious from her mood, however, that she had no plans of toying with him this morning. She came closer, earnestly saying, "Look, I'd like to apologize for last night. I was out of line by several miles."

Taken slightly aback by her act of contrition, Fox was somewhat ashamed of himself. "I wasn't exactly a shining example of good manners, myself," he replied graciously, "You were right. I wasn't always there when you needed me. Maybe that's why I got so upset last night – after Andross died, I met Krystal, but I did start thinking about you again from time to time. I let one of the best things I ever had slip right out of my hands; that was bad enough, but I was never able to forgive myself for the pain that must have caused you. Forget, occasionally – but never forgive."

"And Krystal?" Fara asked, "You love her?"

"With every fiber of my existence," Fox replied without hesitation.

Fara let out a long, audible sigh as she looked out the hangar onto the runway and into the starry sky. Finally, she averted her eyes and said, "It doesn't matter now. After I left, I convinced myself that it was all your fault. I wanted to hurt you as much as I could," she paused for a long moment and then looked Fox in the eyes. She continued, "Fox, whatever might have happened between you and me, you have to believe that Bill still loves you like a brother. He wanted so badly to reconcile the rift between us, but I kept getting in the way." Fox was relieved – that was one tension that might be a little easier to alleviate. Fara sighed again and went on, "In time, I realized that we just weren't compatible. I stopped blaming you after that, but it didn't make things any easier for me. The hate eventually went away… I suppose the love never did."

"I couldn't live with myself after what happened," Fox admitted, "Then I realized that I just had to let you go. I was angry last night, but maybe more at the circumstances than at you. I tried to put you out of my mind. Finally… finally, I thought I had put you in my past, then I run into you here. It was just too much, especially after having just come from…" Fox trailed off.

"I'm sorry about your ship, Fox," Fara said, "She was a beautiful ship. I know how much she meant to you."

Waving her off, Fox said, "Enough about that. You know Bill's on his way here, right?"

"Yeah," her smile returned, "And he used his connections to have me reassigned as chief engineer aboard his ship. A few more hours, and I'll be able to ditch this dump for good."

"That's great…" Fox said. Neither he nor Fara could think of anything else to say. They just looked at each other for a long moment, then both suddenly burst out in peals of laughter. Both of them were so happy – so ready to put their rocky relationship in the past and get back to being friends. Neither of them quite knew where to go; they realized that since they were finally able to live their separate lives, anything was possible. Fox sighed as he came out of his laughter and asked, "So, what do you think of Slippy's redesign of the Arwings?"

"I have to give him credit," she allowed, "That toad may be a complete drip, but he sure knows his way around the toolbox."

"He certainly does," Fox answered with a chuckle. For all of his faults, Slippy was all right. Fox knew the team would be in a bad way if not for Slippy's mechanical skills. Fox felt bad for having snapped at Slippy the last night; he hadn't done anything to deserve bearing the brunt of Fox's temper. In many ways, Slippy remained the "little boy next door" that Fox knew so well in his youth – he followed Fox around everywhere. Slippy had always felt that as long as he was with Star Fox, he was _somebody_; his life meant something. Slippy's father, Beltino Toad, was the head of the Cornerian Defense Force's branch of Research and Development, which Fox supposed had led to Slippy's passion for inventing and tinkering. It had also led to Slippy's isolated childhood; his father was always busy with the top-secret work of the military – in the two decades of his life, Slippy was only now beginning to understand many things about his father.

At least Slippy still _had _a father; that was one of the few things for which Fox envied Slippy. The unfairness was as bitter as gall for Fox. He had heard the voice of his father – had seen his father's face so clearly in his mind's eye. _There's no need for you to hurt anymore_. Fox couldn't help but wonder what it would have been like if he _had _succumb to the temptation of the Aparoid Queen. Would he have been somehow reunited with his father's memory, or would the individuality of his consciousness have simply ceased to exist? He knew something about her beckoning wasn't right, but the sound of her voice still echoed in his memory – _All for us. We are the ultimate existence._ Over the years, Fox had fought on hundreds of battlefields across distant worlds, but she had taken the battle to a field he had never faced before – his own mind. She had forced him to reckon with the darkest parts of himself. The Krazoa had made him stand before his deepest fears, but she had made him face something even more terrifying: his deepest regrets. She _must _have been wrong. Fox had friends; he couldn't abandon Peppy, Krystal, or Bill.

Fox smiled again at the thought of Bill having his own command. He had wanted his own starship so badly he could taste it – Bill always seemed so laid back, but Fox had always suspected that deep down, Bill Grey lived for the pomp and circumstance of military honors, and having his own captaincy would present him with numerous opportunities for that. He asked Fara, "Which ship does Bill command?"

"He was just assigned," she said, "It's a brand new warship – the _L.F.S. Pleiades_."

"They finished the _Pleiades_ already?" Fox asked in surprise, "General Pepper and the research director had a technical consultation with the Star Fox team about those plans about two months ago. I thought it would take them years to build it."

"They finished it quite recently," Fara answered, "I'm surprised you didn't know about it."

"No, that's news to me," Fox said. The plans to the Armada's new battleship had impressed Fox when General Pepper showed him, but they must have expedited its construction quite significantly. Knowing that, Fox was definitely looking forward to seeing what had only been blueprints and pre-visualizations only two months ago. That, and he was ready to get home. At least it seemed that Fara had taken good care of the Arwings. Fox turned to go back inside and said, "I think I'd better go and make sure the others are getting ready to leave. If Bill is scheduled to be in today, we don't want to hold him up."

"Go ahead," said Fara, "I'll take care of everything here."

Turning to leave, Fox looked back and nodded slightly at Fara, as if bidding farewell to all the bitterness of the past. Fox went back inside. Falco was already standing just inside the door.

"Thought I might find you down here," Falco said.

"I was just checking the Arwings," Fox answered noncommittally.

"Uh-huh," Falco gave a knowledgeable smile.

"Are the others up yet?"

"Yeah," Falco said, "We're all ready to make tracks. This place sucks."

"I can't argue with you on that one," Fox nodded, "Where's everyone else?"

"They went to the commissary to grab some breakfast before we shove off," Falco answered, "I went to your room to tell you, but you were already gone, so I came to check out where you had gone. Why don't we go get something, too?"

"That's not a bad idea, Falco," Fox said, "I haven't had anything since we left Corneria."

The two of them headed to the base's small cafeteria to join the others. Even after a full night's sleep, they were all weary and disheveled. With no other gear or clothing available, they all still wore their dirty flight suits. Krystal's face lit up as she saw Fox walk into the room. Falco winked as Fox glanced in his direction. Krystal got up from the table, and she and Fox practically ran to each other. They held each other for a long time before finally going back to the table. The others remained silent, even Slippy. They just sat and ate. After awhile, Fox finally spoke.

"This may not be the best time for me to tell you all this," Fox began, "But I wanted to say that I'm proud of all of you. I'm the luckiest person in the world to have such loyal friends. I wanted to tell you that, because I think the coming days may stretch us to the absolute limit. We've beaten Oikonny and the Aparoids, but the damage they've done isn't going to just go away. There will be rebels and skirmishes everywhere, and it will most likely fall to us to mop them up. No matter what may happen in the future, I love you all. You are my family."

None of them quite knew what to say. Peppy opened his mouth as if to speak, but he couldn't find the right words. They all just looked at Fox for a long time. Right as Peppy was finally about to speak, he was interrupted as two synthesized bell tones sounded and the base's P.A. system relayed a message.

"_Attention, all personnel. Attention, all personnel," _came the voice over the loudspeaker, _"Inbound cruiser. All landing crews to stations. Repeat, all landing crews to stations. All safety and emergency teams, stand by. Star Fox team and mechanical detail, stand by. That is all."_

"That must be the _Pleiades_," said Fox, "I have to say, they're here sooner than I expected."

"The _Pleiades_?" Peppy asked, "That's Bill's ship? I'm impressed that they finished it so quickly. But then, I guess underestimating the Engineering Corps has become a full-time job for me."

Fox smiled as he stood up, saying, "Nothing should surprise us by now. Come on, let's get to the hangar." The five of them rushed down to the hangar where their Arwings were being kept. Fara was still there, looking out of the hangar to catch a glimpse of the incoming battleship. The enormous landing pad off to the right side of the runway was still unoccupied, but it was the only place for the _Pleiades_ to land, so Fox knew they would all see it soon. They all stood just inside the hangar door and looked out into the darkness in complete silence. Although the _Pleiades _was still not visible, alarms began to sound, warning everyone to clear the landing pad or suffer fiery consequences. As the oxygen envelope was opened, transparent force-fields activated in the doors right in front of those standing there. Soon the ground began to rumble; there was no air to carry the roar of the ship's powerful plasma engines, but Fox _felt_ the roar in the ground beneath his feet. Fox and the others shielded their eyes as the darkness was suddenly pierced by the brilliant light of the _Pleiades_'s plasma thrusters. At that short of a distance, the light was so bright that the _Pleiades _wasn't even visible.

As the oxygen envelope was resealed, the door force-fields shut off, and a deafening roar filled the hangar. The roar faded; the white light of the thrusters diminished as the ship's throttle closed, and the team was finally able to see the completed _Pleiades_ for the first time. It was a beautiful ship – nothing could fill the hole in the team's spirit which the _Great Fox _once inhabited, but the _Pleiades_ was a fine-looking vessel. The ship nimbly maneuvered into landing position, and a loud roar was briefly heard once again as the _Pleiades_ fired its VTOL rockets and gently came to rest upon the landing pad.

Landing crews scurried to the site to assist with checks on the ship. They were quickly busy spraying the glowing heat shield with coolant, releasing pressurized hydraulics from their prisons, and tending to the myriad other tasks necessary to safely land a starship. Once the all-clear was sounded, Fox and his team made their way over to the landing pad to meet Bill. Fara followed closely, but soon she broke into a run and rushed ahead of them as Bill came down the gangplank.

Even when they were _in_ a relationship, Fox couldn't recall seeing this tender side of Fara. Inwardly, he was glad that Fara had found happiness away from him. She and Bill belonged to each other, finally bringing closure to that chapter of Fox's life. Fox set a slow pace as he walked forward with his team, wanting to give Bill and Fara at least a few moments together. Before too long, they were all standing at the bottom of the gangplank as Bill and Fara came down. Bill and Fox exchanged long looks, leaving unsaid what both of them wanted to say. Finally, Bill found himself in Fox's brotherly embrace. Bill smiled, relieved.

"I got Aldrin's message," Fox's old friend said, "What're you guys doing here?"

"Well, it was in the neighborhood," Fox joked, "Besides, our ship sort of… um, blew up."

"Lucky I was passing through, then, eh?" Bill's smile faded as he paused for a minute. He went on, "Listen, Fox. I'm sorry about… I wanted to tell you…"

"Forget it," Fox said, then put an arm around Krystal, who was standing beside him. "We're both better off." Fara and Krystal smiled. Fox looked back at Bill and the magnificent starship behind him. "Look at you," he commented, "The Captain of the _L.F.S. Pleiades_. I always knew you were after a command."

"Well, General Pepper used some of his pull with the mucky-mucks in the War Bureau," Bill admitted, "Seems he told 'em about my little bit on Katina during the rebellion."

"Well, you earned it," Fox assured him, "That has to be the pluckiest bit of flying I've ever seen."

"Maybe," Bill said, "But there's talk of making the _Pleiades_ the Armada's flagship."

"Oh?" Fox raised an eyebrow, "Soon to be _Admiral_ Grey?"

"It's a wild thought, but I've had good fitness reports so far," Bill said hopefully, "Hey, listen. I've got to go check in with the base commander," he glanced in the direction of the hangar, saw the ground crews working, and continued, "Looks like they're getting your fighters into the docking bay. You guys go ahead and get aboard. I'll be back soon, and then we'll get out of here."

Fox nodded and ushered his team up the gangplank. Bill kept going, and Fara followed him. It was obvious to Fox that Bill didn't want to stay any longer than he, so he knew the meeting with the base commander would be as brief as Bill could possibly make it. So much the better – this was the second time Fox had had to endure the Battle Base Meteor, and hopefully the last.


	3. Chapter 3

Star Fox: Regime – a fan fiction by Wolf Reynolds  
"Star Fox" and all related characters and trademarks are © Nintendo, Inc.  
Story © 2009 Wolf Reynolds

CHAPTER 3

_On board the __L.F.S. Pleiades__, Greyson Defense Force Base – Area Six, the "Battle Base Meteor" – 1152 hours, local time._

The crew of the _L.F.S. Pleiades_ came to attention as Bill and Fox came onto the bridge. Fara and the rest of the Star Fox team followed them. Bill signaled the crew to "at ease", and the bridge crew members returned to their assigned duty stations. Fara, who was now officially the chief engineering officer, took her own station at the engineer's console. Unfortunately for the Star Fox team, the _Pleiades_'s gate transmission system had not yet been installed. With the Cornerian gate station's communication array knocked out, the team would have to depend on the fusion-powered engines of the _Pleiades_ to make the two-day journey back to Corneria. In spite of how anxious Fox was to get home, he was secretly glad to have the chance to walk about this impressive new ship. Since he and his team had been some of the primary consultants on the ship's design, no part of the ship was restricted to them.

For the moment, though, they still had to take off. Fox looked down through the bridge windows at the tarmac below the ship as the final ground crews scampered back to the hangar. He could hear the metallic thud of the stabilizing placeholder rods as they fell away from the sides of the ship. Bill turned to his communications officer with an expectant look. "Open a channel to Greyson tower, Lieutenant," Bill said.

"Channel open, sir," the officer answered.

"Greyson tower, this is the _Pleiades_, Captain Grey commanding," said the captain in the very traditional manner of the Lylatian Armada, "Your troops are here, and we have completed our mission. I respectfully request clearance to launch and return to Corneria."

The voice of Major Stevens came back over the bridge speakers, "Captain Grey, this is Greyson Command. You are granted clearance to launch. Bon voyage and Godspeed, _Pleiades_."

With that, the transmission ended. Fox beamed as he watched Bill prepare the bridge for departure. This couldn't have been the same cocky firebrand who had fought alongside him back on Katina. This Bill Grey had such a commanding presence that his men would likely have followed him to the very depths of the underworld. It seemed odd for Fara to be in a duty station where her husband was her commanding officer, though – she had said that Bill "pulled some strings", but how Bill had managed _that_ without creating a conflict of interest was beyond Fox. It only proved that Bill's reputation as a skilled operator was still intact, whatever rank he might have achieved.

Bill looked at Fara's station and asked, "Report on systems?"

"All systems are 'go' for takeoff," Fara replied, "Engineering reports ready to launch… Captain."

Bill nodded and turned to the helmsman. He began to give takeoff orders, which were met with a steady chorus of "Aye, Captain" from the officers at which they were directed. "Helm, fire VTOL thrusters," he said. The roar of the rockets was muffled by the semi-soundproof walls of the bridge, but it was still very loud. Fox felt the deck shaking underneath his feet and heard the creaking of metal under extreme tension as the enormous battleship rose ever so slowly from the pad. "Fire trophospheric maneuvering thrusters," Bill ordered, "Take us to station-keeping altitude and prepare to activate plasma engines." The whine changed pitch suddenly, and the shake seemed to come from a different direction as the helmsman fired a different set of boosters. The ship turned and inclined until the bridge was at a slant which made it almost difficult for Fox and the others to remain standing.

After a few minutes, Fox felt his weight shift as the ship's enormous G-diffuser compensated for its newly-reached orbit. He had been through this takeoff procedure dozens, maybe hundreds, of times, but it was always exhilarating. As the ship entered orbit, the incline leveled out so that they could all see the asteroid beneath the ship. A few minutes later, Bill turned to Fara and ordered, "Activate fusion generator and plasma engines."

"Aye, sir," Fara responded. Fox couldn't help but smirk a little – no one on the outside would have ever known the two of them were married because they were both so much the officers. The _Pleiades_ groaned again as its main engines ignited, and then the rumbling and shaking came to an abrupt stop. The ship became motionless as the ignition sequence came to a successful completion. "Main engines ready, Captain," said Fara, "Launch complete."

Bill smiled broadly, "Very good. Helm, set course for Corneria. Prepare to leave orbit."

"Course ready, Captain," replied the helmsman.

"Ahead full," Bill ordered. The helm complied with the order, and the _Pleiades_ began to glide forward effortlessly. There was no sensation of momentum, no awkward rumbling, and no loud noise. Bill visibly relaxed – Fox hadn't even noticed how tense he was, but now that the dangers of launch were behind them, Bill's posture was a little less stiff than before. The captain walked over and pressed a button to activate the ship's speaker system. "Now hear this. Now hear this," he announced, "This is the captain speaking. I would like to thank each and every one of you for your dedication over the last few days. Thanks to your efficiency, our mission to Area Six has come to a successful completion. It appears that for the time being, we'll all be able to take it easy for awhile while we return to the capital. All crews may now stand down from launch stations. That is all." Bill glanced at Fox as if for encouragement; Fox gave him a look of approval.

It was strange to see Bill giving orders from the bridge of a starship – Fox was so used to seeing him as a hotshot squadron leader who flouted the chain of command every time it became an inconvenience. Barking battle-induced orders to wingmen was quite a bit different from directing the activities of a battleship, but so far, Bill seemed perfectly able to manage both with equal proficiency. Of course, to Fox's knowledge, Bill's command of the _Pleiades _had not yet been tested in battle. Bill wasn't the type to crack under pressure, though – if the _Pleiades_ did not perform well in combat, it would be because of her untested crew, not because of her captain.

After a few minutes, the ship was cruising freely through space. Satisfied with the successful takeoff, Bill turned to his first officer and said, "I'm going to see to our guests now. You have the conn." The commander nodded; Bill turned and made his way to the rear door of the bridge, gesturing for Fox and the others to follow as he did so. Fara watched him as he left, but she remained at her post, realizing that she was not needed (and hadn't been ordered to follow, besides).

Outside, Bill led Fox and the rest of the team through the passageway. Fox looked around and noticed everything; he liked the ship very much and was grateful for the opportunity to see it finished. Krystal scampered forward in the line to stand beside Bill. She asked, "Where are we going?"

"To the officer's lounge," Bill answered, "It's about lunchtime, and I'd imagine you could all do with a chance to sit down for awhile and get a quick bite."

Krystal nodded. They made their way down from the bridge, meandering through the passageways of the new ship. Finally, they came to the lounge. It was a nice room – Fox had frequently wished that the _Great Fox_ had had a room like this one. The floor was covered in a plush, white carpet, with the seal of the Lylat Federation visible in the middle of the floor. The entire far wall was one large window, opening to a view of the flaming oranges and reds of the neutron-cloud of Sector Z. Along the window-wall were several tables of dark, polished wood. The War Bureau had clearly spared no expense with the vessel which might become the flagship of the fleet. There was a couch on one end of the room, various plush chairs, and assorted potted plants scattered throughout the room. Bill led Fox and the others to the room's largest table, directly across from the entrance. The six of them sat.

"I'm sorry we're just now getting a chance to talk," Bill said – to everyone, really, but directed especially towards Fox, "You understand how it is, though. Getting in and out of a port that quickly takes some doing, as you can imagine. So how long has it been, Fox? Two years?"

"About that," Fox said, "At least since we've met face-to-face. I think you know Krystal, though."

"Ah, yes," Bill glanced at Krystal, then looked back at Fox, "I think we met in our last video conference, but this is the first we've met in person," he looked at Krystal again, "A pleasure."

"The pleasure is mine, Captain," Krystal replied politely.

"Bill," he asserted, "Always, to my friends."

"Two years," Fox repeated, "Has it been that long? I remember fighting side by side with you in the skies over Katina like it was yesterday."

"A lot's happened since then, Fox," Falco said.

"It has, indeed," Bill concurred, "From what I hear, you were gallivanting about the outer sectors at some point or another."

Falco smirked but didn't answer right away. He muted a chuckle, sighed, and said simply, "Let's just say I ran with the wrong crowd for awhile there."

"And there was that whole Sauria business," Bill shook his head, "I only read about that in one of the status reports. That would've been what – about a year ago?"

"Something like that," Slippy answered.

"One year, three months, and four days," Fox answered specifically, "And it's been crazy since then." He looked at Krystal and felt somewhat guilty. He said, "It's a long time to make a girl wait. I've been dancing around all this time, but the music's bound to stop sooner or later." Fox got up from his seat suddenly and dropped to one knee in front of Krystal. "I've put this off long enough – I can't put it off any longer. Will you marry me, Krystal?"

Krystal was speechless for several moments, stunned by Fox's sudden (yet long-awaited) proposal. The others just sat in a sort of embarrassed silence. Finally, with tears in her eyes, Krystal nodded and said, "Yes, Fox. Yes." Fox got up, and they embraced. The two of them held each other for a long time while the others applauded. She looked into Fox's eyes and said, "Oh, Fox. Fox. The world's going out of control. Let's not wait – let's not wait until things get even more insane."

Fox couldn't have agreed more. He nodded towards Krystal, then turned and spoke to Bill, "Bill, I'm going to need your help."

"_My_ help?" Bill said, jumping to an early conclusion, "I had sort of assumed that Falco would be your best man."

"Well, that's what I had in mind, to be honest," Fox said as he glanced at Falco. Falco tacitly indicated his agreement. Fox looked back at Bill and went on, "No, I need your help in a slightly more official capacity. You're the captain of a ship, aren't you? I need you to perform the ceremony. Will you?"

"Oh, I see," Bill smiled, "It would be an honor, Fox."

"If I can put in a little advice, Fox?" Peppy spoke up. Krystal and Fox looked in his direction.

"From you, Peppy? Always," Fox replied.

"I realize we're rushing into this thing, but let's not rush into this thing," Peppy said with a slight laugh, "You ought to at least give yourselves the night to prepare. That would give Bill some time to get things ready, too. I'm sure he'll have to get a few things together to perform the ceremony. The three of you ought to talk things over a bit – you know, work out some of the details. A wedding should never be _completely _spur-of-the-moment, should it?"

"You're right," said Fox, "As usual."

"It'll be the day after tomorrow by the time we get back to Corneria," Bill said to Fox and Krystal as he thought out loud about the logistics, "We can do the ceremony any time during the day tomorrow, really."

"On the observation deck?" Krystal asked, "We can see all the stars there. Wouldn't that be lovely, Fox?"

"Yeah," Fox agreed, "Do you think we could do that, Bill?"

"I kinda like the idea, myself," said Bill, "The observation deck is where we hold most of our diplomatic functions. Now, with that being said, I'm bound to have a spare penguin suit around here you can borrow, Fox. I can just wear my dress uniform, so there's no problem there. We obviously don't have any wedding gowns aboard, so we'll have to have to figure out something for Krystal…" Bill and Fox kept discussing it, working out the fine points. In the meantime, Peppy and the others got up, deciding that it would be best to leave the three of them to work things out.

While Bill and Fox continued to talk, Krystal quickly excused herself, assuring Fox that she would be right back. She followed Peppy out into the passageway. "Peppy, wait," she called out to him. Peppy stopped and waited for Krystal. Falco paused and looked back to see if Peppy was coming with them.

"Go ahead. I'll be along in a few minutes," Peppy waved him onward and then turned to look at Krystal. She was beaming, but her eyes still appeared misty. Peppy smiled with her and said, "What is it?"

"You always promised me this would happen someday," she answered, "You remember when I told you what I wanted last Christmas?"

"I remember," Peppy answered fondly, "I told you to hold out. He needs you, Krystal. He's always needed someone like you. I've watched him grow up, and I've watched the two of you grow closer and closer together. I've lived long enough to figure out these sort of things."

"Ever since Fox saved me on Sauria, you've sort of watched over me," she said, "I never found the answers to my past – I never knew Cerinia. I was just a wanderer. I guess…" she paused, momentarily unable to put her thoughts into words, then continued, "I never knew my father, but ever since Fox found me on Sauria, I always imagined he must have been someone like you. What I'm trying to say is… well, will you give me away at the wedding tomorrow."

Peppy smiled widely. Krystal could see a twinkle in his eye as he said, "It would warm the cockles of this old hare's heart." He looked into her eyes for a moment, then held her as a daughter.


	4. Chapter 4

Star Fox: Regime – a fan fiction by Wolf Reynolds  
"Star Fox" and all related characters and trademarks are © Nintendo, Inc.  
Story © 2009 Wolf Reynolds

CHAPTER 4

_On board the __L.F.S. Pleiades__, near Area Four – 1925 hours, local time._

The observation deck of the _Pleiades _was crowded with members of the ship's crew, all of them in full dress uniform. Fox didn't know any of them, but Bill had insisted that Fox be given full military honors for the wedding ceremony. Fox and Falco stood with Bill on a makeshift stage at the end of the room; both of them wore suits which didn't particularly fit. Falco's suit was a little too loose, while Fox's was just a little too tight. The alternative for Fox was to get married in his dirty flight suit – having his wedding in a borrowed suit on the observation deck of a Lylatian warship wasn't exactly part of his plans, but _that _was definitely out. They were all lucky that the _Pleiades_ served diplomatic functions so often; they might not have had any choice but flight suits, otherwise. Not that Krystal or Fox would have complained too much – this was a day both of them had awaited for a long time.

There was no piano or organ on the deck (it was a warship, after all, not a chapel), so the only processional to be heard was a pre-recorded version which was played over the speakers in the room. As soon as the music started, the members of the audience stood and turned to the back to see Krystal. This wasn't exactly the storybook wedding she had always wanted; she didn't wear a wedding gown, she didn't wear a veil – she wasn't even wearing white, for that matter. All she had was a hastily-altered evening dress of blue satin that Bill had bought for Fara. The only flowers she had were the silk ones Fara had been able to glean from the decorative floral arrangements in the ship's lounge. In spite of all that was lacking, Krystal's eyes glimmered with tears of joy. She held Peppy's arm tightly as they walked down the aisle. They reached the front just a few moments before the processional reached its conclusion.

Peppy looked at Fox and winked as the tradition continued. Bill finally began the proceedings by saying, "Who gives this woman in marriage?"

"I do," Peppy answered, then turned to Krystal and smiled.

Krystal and Fox then joined hands as Bill began the traditional ceremony. "Dearly beloved," the captain began, "We are gathered here to witness the union of this man and this woman in the sacred bonds of holy matrimony. If there is anyone here who can show good cause why these two should not be wed, let him speak now or forever hold his peace." Strangely enough, Fox thought of Fara at this moment and felt guilty again about how he had abandoned her. He quickly put the thought out of his mind; Fara was in the past now – she and Bill were happy together. Fox wasn't going to let the memory of Fara plague his bright future with the one he was about to pledge the rest of his life to honor. There was silence, so Bill continued. A rush of paradoxical emotion swept over both of them; Bill's ceremonial discourse seemed like background noise to them both, yet they both hung on every word.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Bill came to the moment Fox and Krystal had awaited since they first met, "Fox, will you take this woman to be your lawful, wedded wife; to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health; and forsaking all others, keeping yourself only for her, so long as you both shall live?"

"I will," Fox said, then turned to Krystal and softly added, "With all my heart."

Bill smiled and continued, "And will you, Krystal, take this man to be your lawful, wedded husband; to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health; and forsaking all others, keeping yourself only for him, so long as you both shall live?"

"I will," said Krystal.

"Then, by the power vested in me by the Fourth Federal Republic of the Lylat Star System, I now pronounce you husband and wife," Bill said. He then turned to Fox and said with a smile, "You may now kiss the bride." Fox did; he and Krystal had kissed before, but this was the kiss for which they had both been waiting for nearly two years. Their kiss was met with applause which came first from Slippy and Fara (who were seated up front) then spread to the entire assembly. As Fox and Krystal began to walk arm in arm back down the aisle, the cadets lining the aisle snapped to attention, drew their sabers, and made an archway – part of the military ceremony.

Bill just stood and watched as Fox left with Krystal. He had never been able to understand Fox. Fox was an enigma whose troubled past continued to haunt him. There had been no safe haven for Fox's mind ever since the death of James McCloud; holding on to reason was like trying to anchor a skiff in the turbulent waters of the open sea during a hurricane. At last, it seemed like Fox had finally found something – some _one_ – to bring stability to all of the chaos and turmoil.

The more Bill thought about it, he couldn't see how his life had been much different from Fox's before Fara had come into his life. True, Bill didn't have Fox's past – Bill was the third generation of his family to attend the Cornerian Military Academy, and he'd had the benefit of a relatively normal childhood up to that point – but the years of going where he was told, putting his life on the line every day, and never being able to settle down were beginning to make him weary. In his own way, Bill had been a wanderer just like Fox. He lived on ships and bases; after the Academy, he'd never had a true _home_ until now. Now he had Fara, and Fara _was _his home.

He was happy for Fox; the vagabond mercenary had found an anchor at long last. Krystal had become Fox's lifeline, just as Fara had become his. Bill sighed; they would all need a lifeline in the coming days. The Lylat System was always facing one crisis after another, but the Aparoids had very nearly brought Corneria to her knees. Bill began to wonder if Lylat, the nation he loved and was sworn to serve and protect, still had the strength to weather the storms as it had always done. It was hard to keep faith in Corneria when Corneria was ragged and in complete disarray. Corneria City was devastated, the orbiting control center was on the verge of falling apart, and it would be some time before what was left of the fleet could be considered much of a threat to anyone.

Bill exhaled slowly and lifted his eyes to see the stars through the transparent canopy of the observation deck; now wasn't the time to dwell on that. This was a happy time – Bill's childhood friend had just been united with the one with whom he would share the rest of his life. It was high time, too; from what Bill had gathered from Fox's teammates, Fox and Krystal had been pushing around the idea of getting married for over a year now. Fox never had been one for lasting commitments; maybe that was why Fara had left him. _Oh, well, _Bill thought, _That's all behind us now. Both of us._

In Fara's quarters, Krystal and Fara were talking as Fara looked through her wardrobe to try and find something comfortable that Krystal could wear. "I envy you," said Fara, "Bill got me that dress. I always liked it, but it never did look good on me. It just seems to go with your figure."

"Really?" Krystal fussed with the seam of the dress, "Well, it's not exactly what I had hoped.. what I had planned to wear for a wedding. I don't know.. It was a pretty wedding, wasn't it? I mean, I thought everything was nice."

"It was a lovely wedding," Fara answered with a smile, "Especially considering the circumstances."

Krystal looked longingly at the white silk roses in her hand, "It's not exactly what I had always planned."

Fara stopped rummaging and turned to look Krystal in the eye. "Listen," she said, "Take it from me; if you spend any length of time with Fox McCloud, things never go exactly as planned. That was one of the things about him that I always hated and loved at the same time."

"I'm learning that. I –" Krystal tried to be sensitive, "I'm sorry you lost him. Really."

Fara just sighed, then went back to going through the wardrobe, saying, "Forget it. Fox was never mine to lose. He always had other baggage he was carrying. I think he's gotten past that. Here we are," Fara handed Krystal some jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, then continued, "I hope he can someday, if he hasn't. It worked out better for the both of us. I know I'm better off with Bill."

"Do you still love Fox?" Krystal asked.

"Of course," Fara laughed, "But I also love flying, cherry pie, and Bill. Not really in that order, but there it is. He's all yours, Krystal. He was over me a long time ago." Krystal turned to go, then stopped and looked back as Fara said with a devious grin, "Just for the record, though, I hope you keep him crazy."

Krystal smiled, "I just hope _he _can keep me _sane_."

"What?" Fara said, "With that hotshot? I wouldn't count on it, dear."

Krystal just smiled again as she left. Now was her time to have a few minutes with Fox. She met him in his cabin, and they embraced and held each other.

"I was talking to Bill," Fox said softly, "He wanted us all to have dinner with him and Fara. For lack of a big reception, I guess. Is that all right with you, Mrs. McCloud?"

"It's better that way," Krystal answered, "I don't think I have the energy for a big hoopla. We've been on the run for three days… and yet, I feel strangely awake."

"I know what you mean," he held her closer, "I know what you mean. Some wedding. Sorry it's not much of a honeymoon. There was so much I wanted you to have; so much I wanted to give you…"

Krystal hushed him and softly said, "I'm holding all I ever wanted."

They held each other for a long time before finally meeting Bill and the others in the ship's lounge. The places were set and the dinner was already on the table, but it didn't seem like the others had been waiting very long (in fact, Falco was coming in at almost the same time as Fox and Krystal). No one seemed to mind. They all sat down, but no one started eating yet; there was a glass of champagne in front of each place, and Bill obviously intended to deliver a toast. Bill raised his glass and began, "In any normal wedding dinner, this would be the moment for me to say something really long-winded and have everyone in tears with tales of all the wondrous times I've shared with Fox as a friend. I don't need to do that, though – we already know all that. No, I don't need to talk to any of us about the past. We're here to celebrate the future," Bill paused and looked at Fox, beginning his toast in earnest, "Fox, you've been my friend and brother, my comrade in arms, for most of both our lives. Maybe we've fallen out of touch a few times, but we've never forgotten our friendship. We'll need that to be stronger than ever now… and Krystal," he looked at Krystal and smiled, "I'm sorry we haven't had the chance to really get to know one another up until now, but you're going to spend the rest of your life with one of the best parts of mine. Let this day be the first of a long line of brighter days to follow," he raised his glass, "To the bride and groom. May their lives be filled with blessing and laughter."

"Hear, hear!" Peppy raised his glass heartily.

"The bride and groom," Falco echoed as he raised his own glass. They all raised and drank from their glasses except for Fox and Krystal, who drank from each other's glass. Krystal, unable to stop herself, began to laugh – all of her dreams were coming true, if not quite in the way she had always expected. In the emotion of the moment, Fox could do nothing except smile at his bride.

"So Fox," Fara finally asked as they all sat down and began eating, "What are your plans now?"

"I'm not really sure," Fox took Krystal's hand as he answered, "We've said how we've wanted to settle down and just take it easy for awhile, but with all that's happened, I'm not sure how long it'll be before that's possible."

"Any ideas for a honeymoon after we get back to Corneria?" Bill asked.

Fox and Krystal couldn't keep themselves from smiling at a remembrance as they exchanged glances. Krystal finally answered, "We've been talking about going to Sauria. Cape Claw, possibly. It has a certain… mystique… to it."

"Though it'll be a miracle if we can sneak past King Tricky," Fox chuckled. The team all had a good laugh at this – Bill and Fara didn't understand, but they still smiled at what was apparently a source of amusement.

Slippy stopped laughing as a thought occurred to him. He turned serious and timidly asked, in his childlike way, "So what happens to Star Fox?"

Fox gave Slippy a long, honest look and said, "I'm not sure, Slippy. I have to think the Lylat System will always have a need of us – that by itself might keep us together. Whatever happens, I don't plan to leave all of you in the cold." Peppy looked at Fox, recognizing the thought which he left unsaid – _He's tired of running from ghosts. He wants escape; he wants closure_. "People in our line of work don't get out easily," Fox went on, "Even before Dad started Star Fox – you remember, Peppy? Even before he was in Star Fox, he was with that other group with your dad, Bill. What was the name of that team, again?"

"Galaxy Dog," Bill answered.

"That's right, Galaxy Dog," Fox said, "You knew him then, right, Peppy?" Peppy nodded. Fox went on, "And my grandfather did the same kind of thing. Star Fox may be in my blood; there may be no overcoming that. But I want... I just would like…" he realized what he almost said (exactly what Peppy had thought earlier) and left his sentence unfinished. He just stayed silent for a second or two, then said simply, "Well, it'll all work out in the end, won't it?"

Krystal nodded – everything would be all right in the end. They were headed home, however shortly they might stay, and she was with Fox. Krystal's search through the night had finally ended – at long last, she had found the dawn.


	5. Chapter 5

Star Fox: Regime – a fan fiction by Wolf Reynolds  
"Star Fox" and all related characters and trademarks are © Nintendo, Inc.  
Story © 2009 Wolf Reynolds

CHAPTER 5

_On board the __L.F.S. Pleiades__ – Corneria City Airspace, Planet Corneria – 31 hours later. (0137 hours, CCT)_

Bill stood on the bridge of the _Pleiades_ with his hands behind him as the lights of the battered (but still standing) Cornerian capital city glittered beneath him like a crystalline sea. The ship had completed its re-entry procedure and slowed its momentum to a safe speed for trophospheric flight, but its outer hull still glowed a dull red as the heat shield continued to cool. Fox and Krystal stood together beside Bill as the ship continued its silent glide through inner space. Bill had ordered the plasma engines deactivated to hasten the cooling process – the ship was now held in the air solely by its massive (but silent) g-diffuser. All of them were tired and ready to be on the ground, but they couldn't land until the ship's exterior cooled to a safe level.

Only a handful of crew members were present on the bridge; it was late, and only a few of the officers were essential for the re-entry procedure, so Bill had given many of them leave to go get some sleep. The only ones on the bridge were the helmsman and the communication officer. Fara was also there, of course. Despite the tough-guy show he had made of not being the least bit tired, Falco Lombardi dozed in the chair of the weapon systems officer. There was nothing to do but wait.

Bill yawned. He shook his head in an attempt to clear some of the drowsiness, then looked at the helmsman and asked, "Helm, altitude?"

"2200 meters MSL, Captain," the helmsman replied. Bill nodded silently in acknowledgement. He supposed that was nice to know, but looking back, he wasn't really sure why he had bothered asking. He guessed it was probably to keep himself awake more than anything.

"Have you got any shore leave coming, Bill?" Fox asked, sensing Bill's weariness.

"None to speak of," Bill shook his head, "Besides, with all this Aparoid mess just being over, I'll probably be needed too much. I am taking three days furlough, though – just as soon as we land, I'm going to find a bed at the base and just crash. I'll probably stay asleep all three days, no matter how hard the bed is."

"Hey, if you just need a place to stay for a few days, I've got a place downtown," Fox offered, then he looked at Krystal with a smile upon remembering that he was no longer a bachelor, "If you don't mind, that is."

Krystal just said, "You're more than welcome, Bill. We were hoping to leave for Sauria sometime in the next few days, anyway."

"Ah, you newlyweds," Bill sighed, "Where did you scrape up the dough to get a downtown apartment, Fox?"

"Well, Dad left me a little," Fox said, "I didn't sink it _all_ into trying to keep Star Fox running. I'm hardly ever there, but it's all mine – and Krystal's, now. I've managed to do pretty well, actually. It's right near the coast and just a few miles from the base. Not that I'm ever home. They just built that building, and it's really nice, too. Being so far out of the main damage area, it probably escaped getting blown up."

"We can only hope," said Bill.

"Peppy just moved in right across the hall from me," Fox went on, "He's ready to retire, and he said he figured the best place to retire would be somewhere where he could keep both eyes on me."

"He worries so unnecessarily," Krystal said.

"What about Fara?" Bill asked.

"Pfft. Don't worry about me, hon," said Fara, "I'm gonna be stuck on this tub for awhile trying to learn my way about. I don't think I can be spared."

"Should I stay here with you, then?" Bill asked.

"Nah, you go ahead," Fara answered, "It's just three days. I probably wouldn't see much of you even if you _did _stay here. I'll be trying to organize all my equipment and staff."

"Well, if you're sure…" Bill was hesitant about leaving his wife for three days.

Fara convinced him, "I'm telling you, Bill. I won't see you anyway. You might as well spend three days someplace where you'll be able to get some rest without some junior-grade upstart pestering you every five minutes." They all stopped talking when they heard a snore come from behind. Fox turned head and saw Falco with his head propped against the back of the chair.

"Steady as a rock, this one," Fox smiled. He shook Falco awake, "Falco, wake up! It's the police!"

"What?" Falco jolted out of his sleep and jerked his head around nervously, "Where?" This was met with laughter from everyone except Falco – the joke had been at his expense, after all. "You're a real swine, you know that, Fox?" Fox just nodded and kept laughing.

"Excuse me, sir," the helmsman said above the clamor, "We're approaching Defense Fleet Headquarters. Should we begin landing procedure?"

"Fara, what's our hull temp?" Bill asked before answering the helmsman.

"We're on the green line, Captain," Fara nodded.

"Yes," Bill answered the helmsman, "Begin landing procedure. Comm, open a channel to the CIC and announce our arrival."

The communications officer acknowledged the order and began to follow his instructions. He held the earphones to his ears and listened for a response, then said, "We've been granted landing clearance, sir. Berth 5-C."

"Very good," Bill said, "Helm, carry on."

"Aye-aye, sir," said the helmsman. For some reason, landings always made Fox nervous. Trying to put an enormous dreadnaught like the _Pleiades_ on the ground without digging a crater was quite a feat, to Fox's reckoning. The deck began quaking as the ship's retro rockets fired. Fox looked nervous as the roar of control thrusters sounded. Before long, though, they were safely on the ground and stepping out into the crisp night air of Corneria City's autumn. In the time aboard the _Pleiades_, Falco and Slippy had decided it would be best to stay with Peppy until Fox could decide the next move for the Star Fox team; Peppy had readily agreed with their logic, and with the extra bedroom in his apartment, it would be no inconvenience. It worked out well for all of them.

It seemed like no time at all before the six of them were standing in the elevator on their way up to Fox and Peppy's floor – they lived on the thirty-second floor of the building, so it was a bit of a long ride. Fox looked down at his watch as the elevator door opened. 2:13 am. He hadn't realized it was so late.

Peppy yawned as he opened the door to his suite, "Whew. I'm tired."

"Yeah," Falco answered wearily, "I could do with a bite to eat, though."

"I'm a little hungry, myself," Krystal admitted, "We haven't eaten since yesterday afternoon."

Peppy was a little surprised when his stomach growled loudly. He said, "Funny, I didn't feel hungry until you said something, Falco."

"Glad to be of help," Falco joked.

"Oh, all right," Peppy gave up and gestured to his door, "You guys come on in if you want a midnight snack. I don't guess it would hurt anything." Falco and Slippy needed no second bidding. Krystal waited as Fox opened his own door.

"Aren't you coming, Fox?" she asked.

Fox waved off the idea and gave her a quick hug, saying, "Go ahead, hon. I'm dead on my feet, and I'm not really hungry. I'll be waiting for you."

"What about you, Bill?" Peppy asked.

"I don't think so," said Bill, "Thanks for offering, but I've got to get some sleep." Peppy just shrugged and went in with Krystal. Fox gestured and let Bill go in ahead of him. He followed Bill into the room and turned on the light.

"Hey, listen," Fox said, "Just make yourself at home. Let me know if you need anything."

"Thanks," Bill said as he sat down on the couch. It was an old couch, and it looked a little ragged, but it was quite comfortable. He rubbed his hand across the cushions, "I'll take the couch."

"That was Peppy's," Fox smiled, "Now it's about all I have left of the _Great Fox_. I can't even imagine how many hours I've spent napping on that couch."

"Hey, I'm sorry about your ship, Fox," Bill said, "I know how much she meant to you."

"Oh, it's all right," Fox lied. Going back to talking about the _Great Fox _felt like someone had thrown a brick at his gut.

"Aw, come on, Fox," Bill consoled him, "You lived aboard that ship for years – she was your life. You're trying to tell me that you're not bothered by that? I know you better than that; you're no softy, but you can't possibly be _that_ emotionless."

"Now you're gonna have me sniffling and sobbing," Fox chuckled mirthlessly, "It's not like I haven't got anywhere to go. I mean, I have this place, for one thing. I've got Krystal, too."

"Yeah," Bill nodded, "What about Star Fox? What will you do without a mother ship?"

"Well, we haven't been paid for the Aparoid job yet," Fox shrugged, "That probably won't be enough to handle a new ship, but if the Lylat System needs us badly enough, things will work themselves out," he paused with a yawn and walked off as he finished, "I'm going to bed now. It's been a long day."

"Yeah, smart idea," Bill said as he took off his shoes, "The both of us will have clearer heads in the morning."

In spite of how tired he was, Fox didn't fall asleep quickly; too much was going through his mind. He kept mulling the future of Star Fox over and over in his head. He'd had very little down time ever since the Sauria Incident began two years ago – two years of constantly running himself ragged. He wasn't sure how much more he could take, but he wasn't sure what he could do about it, anyway. The Aparoid crisis was over, but Fox had the uneasy feeling that it would have far-reaching implications. The entire Lylat System was under martial law and would likely remain so for weeks or even months. Of course, there would always be those who tended to resist martial law; with all the regular military spread out trying to put the system back together, that left no one to deal with these malcontents but hired soldiers like the Star Fox team. Fox was no nationalist, but he did feel a certain responsibility to the Lylat Federation. He couldn't just abandon the Lylatians (for one thing, he couldn't _afford_ it), but he couldn't go planet-hopping without a flagship, either.

Fox couldn't get this out of his mind; he lay awake in the dark with his eyes open, unable to get past his thoughts even for his total state of exhaustion. He could hear Bill's steady breathing from the other room. He saw a slight trickle of light come in from the hallway as Krystal softly opened the door and came in. She came in and lay beside him on the bed, putting her arms round his neck. Fox sighed heavily and held her.

"Are you all right?" she whispered.

"Yeah," Fox answered unsteadily, "I… Yeah, I'm fine. Are you doing okay? We haven't had time together like I'd hoped."

"I'm just tired," she said, "Tired of all this mess. I want to go back to Sauria like we planned – alone, just with you; no crisis, no Star Fox, just you. I can't handle this running around much more."

Fox sighed again, "I know. I've got to go back to the base tomorrow – I really need to see General Pepper. I can't just fly off without talking to him – but I promise we'll go to Sauria as soon as we can. I want to go away with you; we'll go as soon as we can. I promise."

She just smiled in reply – in their two years together, he had never broken a promise to her, and she knew he wouldn't now. Content in that knowledge, she laid her head gently on his chest and fell fast asleep in his strong arms, safe from the cares of the world.

_Corneria Central Defense Force Base – Infirmary Section. Eight hours later. (1032 hours, CCT)_

Fox, Krystal, and Peppy walked into General Pepper's room in the base infirmary. Falco, Slippy, and Bill had all stayed behind – Peppy suspected they were still asleep (Falco and Slippy, at least), but he didn't complain; they had more than earned a long rest, anyway. It was odd and more than a little disturbing for Fox to see General Pepper in his present condition; the general had always been their solid rock. Even if he was nothing more than a distant and even slightly aloof figure giving briefings to the team, General Pepper was a solid commander. His integrity and total devotion to the Lylat System had made him a popular individual, especially among the Cornerian Army. Even though he was in the regular military, the Star Fox team had always considered General Pepper as one of their own.

The general's wounds were not as serious as the Medical Corps had originally surmised, but he would require a somewhat lengthy recovery, nonetheless. He was sitting up in his bed, wearing a white hospital gown, a large bandage over the left side of his face, and a sling around his right arm. In spite of his numerous injuries, he seemed happy and optimistic. In fact, his attitude seemed to show greater concern for the well-being of the members of the Star Fox team than for himself. He was ecstatic upon discovering the Fox and Krystal had been married at last. Oddly enough, the fact that they were married aboard the _Pleiades_ seemed to please him even more.

"I'm so sorry I missed it," said the general.

"I'm sorry, too, sir," Fox replied, "If it hadn't been for everything going on, we might have waited."

"Not necessary, dear boy," Pepper answered, "Not necessary at all. They tell me the _Great Fox_ was destroyed in the assault."

"Yes, sir," Fox said, trying to hide his sensitivity of the subject as he fidgeted with his red bandana.

"So what are you going to do now? With the team, I mean," General Pepper asked.

"I don't know yet, General. My immediate plans are a little more…" he glanced at Krystal, "Personal."

"Oh," Pepper nodded knowledgeably, "Of course. I won't infringe, then."

"How are you feeling, sir?" Peppy asked.

"A lot better than I look, I'm sure," Pepper answered with a slight laugh, "I'm hoping to go back to active duty before too long. A few cuts and bruises like this aren't going to keep me out of doing my job."

"Wait.. 'cuts and bruises'?" Peppy pointed at the sling, "Your arm's broken, General."

The general took his arm out of the sling and looked it over, saying, "Hmm. So they tell me. What's a broken arm, anyway? You know, Peppy, it isn't exactly as if I'm out in the field trying to climb a rock wall. Besides, I can't keep lying around this place. I'll go out of my head, and you know it."

Peppy did know it, too; General Pepper was never one to sit around and let others pull his weight, no matter what his condition. After his performance during the crisis, there was already talk of promotion going around. He was already in charge of the army for the entire Cornerian sector; about the only promotion left was to chief of staff for the Cornerian Army, which was a distinct possibility, from the talk they had been hearing on the base.

"Well, General," Fox began, "I hate to leave so soon, but we have some other errands to run. It was nice seeing you, sir. You get well quickly."

"Is that a direct order, my boy?" the general smiled.

Fox grinned back, "Yes, sir." He and Krystal turned to go, but Peppy stayed behind. Fox turned back and said, "Peppy, aren't you coming?"

"Actually, Fox," said Peppy, "I really think I should stay here for awhile. Y'all go ahead; I'll get a cab. You and Krystal have things to do, and I'll just be in the way. Besides," he looked over at the general, "It'll give time for two old warhorses to catch up on old times."

"You sure, Peppy?" asked Fox.

"Yeah – go ahead."

"All right," Fox called back as he and Krystal walked out, "Page me if you need me for something."

Peppy turned his head to look back at the general as the two of them left. He smiled as he said, "Those two have some wondrous times ahead. If she can contain him, that is. Sometimes he's so impulsive – so headstrong, so… so.."

"So very much like James used to be," General Pepper finished.


	6. Chapter 6

Star Fox: Regime – a fan fiction by Wolf Reynolds  
"Star Fox" and all related characters and trademarks are © Nintendo, Inc.  
Story © 2009 Wolf Reynolds

CHAPTER 6

_West Realgar Street – Corneria City, Planet Corneria. Two hours later. (1308 hours, CCT)._

Krystal sat in the passenger's seat of Fox's speeder and waited patiently for Fox to finish the errand he was running across the street. The speeder's top was down, and the fresh autumn breeze played gently with Krystal's hair as she looked into the clear blue sky. Even though it was autumn, the afternoon was warm – the city's one last attempt to hold on to summer. The speeder sat parked on the side of Realgar Street, one of the main streets of the city. It was in the heart of the downtown area, but the damage from the Aparoid attack didn't look nearly as bad as Krystal had expected. It was even a little suspicious to her. Certainly, the city was severely damaged; there were numerous buildings quite charred and a few which were completely bombed-out, but the people on the streets seemed optimistic and ready to carry out business as usual. She certainly didn't see the need for complete military control; that sort of measure would normally be reserved for preserving order in the city, and it was not as if the city was in chaos.

Still, she couldn't look anywhere without seeing watchful Cornerian soldiers, all fully armed. She supposed the presence of a peacekeeping force should have made her feel safer, but it didn't; it only made her feel tense at the realization of how fragile Corneria truly was at the moment. If Fox had felt uneasy about it, he certainly hadn't let it show. She was amazed by how he was outwardly able to weather any sort of crisis. Fox came out of a building across the street and briskly walked back over to the driver's side of the speeder. He handed Krystal a brochure of some kind as he got in.

"So when do we leave?" Krystal asked, eyeing the brochure while trying to look at Fox at the same time.

"First thing in the morning," Fox answered with a smile, "I just got us a basic space flight; not an elaborate cruise or anything like that, but the destination will be worth the trip. Sorry we can't afford much more than that right now."

"It's all right," Krystal smiled, "I don't care how or where, as long as we're going."

"I thought you had your heart set on Sauria," Fox said as he started the engine of the speeder and pulled it back out onto the street.

"My heart is set on you, Fox," Krystal said, "I want to go to Sauria, but I'd be just as happy with Zoness, as long as we go together." Fox recoiled at the mention of Zoness; _that_ was one place he would be happy to never see again as long as he lived. Krystal looked over the brochure; it was well-designed, with pictures of a sunset over a beach. On the front was a picture of the planet Sauria taken from orbit. There was red lettering on the back, however, and it caught Krystal's eye. She saw it and said, "What's this?"

Fox concentrated on driving but glanced in her direction and asked, "What's what?"

Krystal began to read the notice aloud, "Listen to this, 'Warning to all travelers on space flights from Lylat sectors: recent crises have caused a necessity for warships to depart from normal patrol stations to counter military threats. As a result, the Lylatian Ministry of Travel and Tourism has issued a Piracy Alert. If you are traveling on a civilian vessel, be aware that your vessel may be targeted by pirates or other hostile forces. This risk is not a major risk and should not deter you from traveling, but the Ministry would like all travelers to be aware and act accordingly; do nothing to make yourself a target, and exercise common sense when traveling off world.' That's all it says."

"Hmm," Fox said, "That has a familiar ring to it."

"What do you mean?"

"The first time I beat Andross – before I met you," Fox said, "There were a lot of reports of piracy then, too. Chasing pirates was all we did until the Sauria thing came up. Maybe that's why Wolf wouldn't leave me alone."

"But wasn't he working for Andross?" Krystal asked.

"He makes his own way, Krys," Fox answered, "He's a lot like me in some ways – I've tried to hold that against him, but I never really could. There are days when I wonder if we truly are enemies at heart."

"He saved your life," Krystal said.

"More than once," Fox admitted, "And I've done the same for him. It usually seems best for us to go our separate ways."

"You always do," Krystal went on, "He's a pirate; I wonder where he is and if he's part of all this."

"If he's even still alive," Fox said, "All those Aparoids surrounding his team – he must have gone down. He must have. I can't think he survived that."

"Do you _hope_ he survived it?" Krystal asked.

Fox sighed. "I don't know," he exhaled. He truly didn't know; he and Wolf had had numerous encounters since Andross's defeat, and almost none of them had been particularly pleasant. Deep inside, though, Fox couldn't bring himself to wish Wolf dead. Wolf's death would certainly have simplified many complications for Fox, but not if he had been the _cause _of Wolf's death; in spite of his fractured past, Fox knew in his heart and conscience that he had no right to take Wolf's life, no matter what Wolf had done to him. Andross and Pigma Dengar had been different. Pigma was without honor; somehow, Fox had always known that Pigma's own greed was far more deadly than any weapon he brought to bear against Pigma. In the end, Fox knew Pigma would destroy himself. Of course, Fox had never experienced a moment of guilt over destroying Andross. Andross had been more than a murderer; it wasn't merely a personal quest for vengeance on Fox's part. Andross had been a tyrant – what he couldn't control, he destroyed. A mind so brilliant and yet so thoroughly depraved as Andross's was more dangerous than the deadliest weapon in the Lylatian arsenal. Fox had to bring him down. He would have done it again without a second thought, and not only because Andross had killed his father.

Hopefully, that was all behind them now. Fox wondered what his next meeting with Wolf would be like, if there was to be a next meeting; he wondered (and even secretly hoped, perhaps) if Wolf had decided to put aside his animosity towards Fox – Wolf had, after all, proven that he was willing to sacrifice himself on the Aparoid home world. Whether or not that sacrifice had been for Fox or for the Lylat System as a whole, Fox wasn't sure he would ever know. If the answer was ever to be known, only time would tell.

Krystal tried to look on the bright side of their current situation. As she saw it, there was nothing that could dampen the spirits of a newlywed couple so passionately in love; Fox was a bit of a pessimist, but she didn't let that bother her, nor did she hold that against Fox. For her, though, life was going well. Inwardly, Fox was quite happy with life, in spite of all that had happened recently. He had lost the _Great Fox_, but his team was still intact, he was with the one he loved, and he had reconnected with Bill and Fara – two old friends he hadn't seen since the Androssian Uprising.

As Fox was driving back towards his apartment near the base, he saw a group of soldiers in uniform guarding the street ahead. One of the soldiers (an officer who was obviously the one in charge) stepped forward and held up a hand as the soldiers behind him lowered a gate. Fox brought the speeder to a halt as he approached the soldier. He noticed the officer's rank insignia and said, "Good afternoon, Lieutenant."

"Good afternoon, sir," the lieutenant replied. His reply was courteous enough, but it was obvious from the scowl on his face that he was not in the mood for idle banter. He said, "Papers, please."

Fox paused a moment, then said, "Of course," as he fished his identification out of his pocket and handed it to the lieutenant.

The lieutenant looked at his license card for a moment, handed it back to him, and said, "I'm sorry, Mr. McCloud, but this sentry post hasn't received any orders to let anyone but military personnel through."

"What?" Fox asked, though not sounding particularly surprised, "What do you mean? We are 'military personnel'."

"Let's see your dog-tags, then," the lieutenant ordered.

"I haven't got any, Lieutenant," Fox said, beginning to grow impatient, "I live by the base. I'm Fox McCloud of Star Fox – we're special forces for hire. I have a writ of passage from the General of the Cornerian Army."

"Why don't I just call to confirm that?" the lieutenant asked gruffly, doubting Fox's implausible statement.

Fox had run out of tolerance. He irately grabbed a sheet of paper, nearly tearing it as he yanked it out of his pocket and shoved it into the MP's hand, "Better yet, why don't you just take a look at this? I told you, this comes from the General of the Cornerian Army, General Pepper. Notice the rank equivalence of colonel here," Fox pointed angrily, "I may not technically be in the Cornerian Army, but by the general's orders, I still outrank you. I want this gate opened, _Lieutenant_," Fox paused a moment as the lieutenant's stone face seemed to melt a bit, "Now!"

The lieutenant exchanged stares with Fox for a few moments, but he quickly gave up. He brusquely turned and shouted, "Corporal!" and made a sweeping motion with his free hand as he gave the paper back to Fox. The soldier by the gate dropped its counterweight and raised the gate. The lieutenant stepped aside and allowed Fox and Krystal to pass. Without a word, Fox nudged the control stick forward and drove onward.

"The crisis isn't a week past," Fox grumbled once they were out of sight of the checkpoint, "And already it's like this. The Aparoids are gone – High Command must be getting paranoid to be looking for infiltrators."

"Well…" Krystal considered a few moments, "Maybe it's just the prudent thing to do, with it being this soon after the invasion – there may be things about the Aparoids that we didn't know."

"Checkpoints, maybe," Fox nodded, "But sealing off big portions of the city – parts of the city where a lot of civilians live? Suppose I _wasn't_ a close friend of General Pepper. How would we get home?"

"I see what you mean," Krystal reluctantly agreed, "But it seems like it's out of our hands."

"That's the worst part of a military government," Fox sighed.

Not wanting to dwell on what was beyond their control, Krystal changed the subject. "If we're leaving first thing in the morning, I'll need to start packing as soon as we get home," she said, "How long will we be gone?"

"As long as you want," Fox answered, "I only chartered a one-way trip."

"Whatever for?" Krystal asked.

"Because right now I just want to leave and forget that Corneria exists," Fox said earnestly, "We've done our duty to king and country – we'll worry about getting a flight back when it comes to that point."

Krystal just nodded. She was usually the practical one, but she wasn't sure she felt any differently than Fox. Fox had spent the better part of his twenty-eight years either sitting in the cockpit of his Arwing or exchanging blaster fire with an enemy of Corneria, and it was beginning to catch up with him. Even though Fox was not yet thirty, Krystal could see an occasional strand of grey in his head. He was tired; perhaps the untrained eye couldn't see it, but Krystal could tell. It wasn't just a physical tiredness, either. Fox was just as physically capable (if not more so) than anyone his age; he was tired of the life he led. He had no choice but to keep going, though. At least Krystal gave him some sense of purpose apart from chasing ghosts for vengeance now two years completed.

_Fox McCloud's apartment, near Corneria Central Defense Force Base. Ten hours later. (2322 hours, CCT)._

Fox suppressed a yawn as Krystal closed the last suitcase and latched it. Fox took it and put it by the door with the rest of the luggage. Krystal looked around as though she were nervous that something would come up and call Fox away so that he wouldn't be able to go with her in the morning. Between moving bits of luggage around and getting himself ready to go to bed, he kept hugging her and stealing quick kisses, tacitly reassuring her that nothing was going to come between them now.

"Anything I can do to help, Fox?" Bill asked as Krystal said her took her leave with a yawn.

"No, thanks, Bill," Fox answered as he shoved all of the suitcases into a corner by the door, "That's the last of it. Oh, that reminds me…" Fox produced a key from his left pocket and quickly tossed it in Bill's direction. Bill caught it quite deftly as Fox said, "You'll probably need that while we're away."

"Thanks," said Bill, "I'm leaving, too, in three days. Remember?"

"That's all right," said Fox, "Just leave that with Peppy when you go." Bill nodded silently in acknowledgement.

"You look tired," Bill observed.

"Yeah," Fox nodded as he rubbed his eyes a little, "I guess the starship-lag is getting to me. I'm still trying to catch up after Area 6, but it's been too busy. Why?"

"Hey," Bill shrugged, "Just noticing. That, and you look like you've got a lot on your mind. You're gonna wear yourself thin at this rate. Trust me – I know. I've been there."

"Well, thanks," Fox yawned. He took one last look at the arrangement of luggage by the door and said, "I think that takes care of everything. I'm going to bed now – it's late, and Krystal and I have an early morning tomorrow if we're going to get to the spaceport on time. Just call out if you need anything."

"Right, Fox," Bill sighed, "If I'm still asleep when you leave in the morning…" He wasn't quite sure how to finish.

Fox looked him in the eye and said, "Yeah, I feel the same way, Bill. I owe you a lot. You and Fara both; will you let her know? I just hope I can return the favor some time."

"You owe _me_?" Bill chuckled, "I still owe _you _one for stepping in on Katina. You and your team are the only reason we weren't wiped out. Good night, Fox. Sleep well."


	7. Chapter 7

Star Fox: Regime – a fan fiction by Wolf Reynolds  
"Star Fox" and all related characters and trademarks are © Nintendo, Inc.  
Story ©2009 Wolf Reynolds

CHAPTER 7

_On board the __L.F.S. Cloudrunner__, Corneria City Civil Spaceport, Planet Corneria. (1134 hours, local time.)_

Fox stood on the luxury liner _Cloudrunner_, leaning forward over the starboard railing of the weatherdeck. The _Cloudrunner_ was quite an amazing ship – perhaps not as _impressive_ as Bill's _Pleiades_, but certainly charming in its own way; Fox was able to stand on the top deck and lean over the railing now, but once the ship launched, the entire deck would be enclosed by transparent matter-glass walls. Krystal held Fox's arm with one hand; with the other, she waved at Peppy and Falco in the crowd far below. Fox just took in the opulence of the liner – maybe being a mercenary had a few advantages, after all; he could never have afforded a cruise like _this_ on a soldier's pay. For that matter, had it not been for his mercenary associations with General Pepper, he would never have been allowed to bring his weapon aboard.

Krystal had initially thought it rather ridiculous, him insisting on carrying his sidearm. After remembering the warning she had read about pirates, however, she wasn't sure it was such a bad idea. Fox checked his watch – 11:38. He sighed impatiently and then smiled at Krystal. The ship was scheduled to launch at noon, and that meant the spaceport staff would have to begin clearing the crowd shortly. It wasn't that he wasn't grateful for Peppy and Falco coming to see them off; it was just that he was anxious to get underway. Fox heard a telltale rumble begin beneath the deck under his feet. To the average civilian, it would probably have meant little. To someone like Fox, however – a veteran of many long hours of starship travel – it was the unmistakable sound of the mighty plasma engines being brought online. He glanced back over the railing and saw uniformed officials beginning to disperse the crowd down on the launch pad beneath the ship. It wouldn't be long before the _Cloudrunner_'s crew began to do the same aboard the ship; he doubted they would be allowed to stay on deck during the launch.

To the surprise of both Fox and Krystal, no one came to direct the crowd on deck. As the scheduled launch time grew nearer, Fox began to wonder for the safety of the passengers; certainly the line must have a good safety record to enjoy its fair level of popularity, but Fox couldn't think it safe on an open deck during a launch. The railing wasn't all that high, Fox thought as he looked over it again. The shaking that would occur during the launch could certainly throw someone over the side, and if that unfortunate passenger survived the fall, he certainly wouldn't survive when the ship's thrusters were fired. Out of instinct, he held Krystal in a half-loving, half-protective way. He looked at his watch again – 11:55. Just as he was beginning to suggest they go to their cabin before they launched, the ship's P.A. system beeped for attention.

"Attention, all passengers, this is your captain speaking," the captain's voice came over the speaker. Fox instinctively looked towards the speaker as the captain continued, "On behalf of the Blue Star Line, I would like to welcome you aboard the seventeenth voyage of the Lylat Federation Ship _Cloudrunner_. We expect to launch on schedule in a little over five minutes, which means we will now be enclosing Deck A. If you are out aboard the top deck, please stand back while the glass is lowered. If you would like to remain on deck during the launch, feel free to do so at your own risk. Handles will appear from the railings for you to hold, as the ship will shake during the launch. All other passengers, please hold the deck railings or take a seat during the launch for your safety. We will launch in five minutes and will be in orbit shortly afterwards. On behalf of the crew of the _Cloudrunner_, we thank you for choosing the Blue Star Line."

Fox turned to Krystal and asked, "Want to stay up here and watch the launch?"

"Only if you promise to let me breathe a little," she pushed away from him with a playful smile. Fox loosened his grip on her, feeling just slightly embarrassed; he had been holding her a little more tightly than he intended. They backed away from the railing when they saw several passengers doing the same. Caught up in the excitement, Fox hadn't even noticed the growing roar of the plasma engines beneath them. Even over that, he could hear the ship's servos as they lowered the glass enclosure into place. As the airtight screen slid down its guiding to connect with the metal retaining wall, the roar of engines and servos immediately ceased; the only engine noise now was a muffled, high-pitched whine. The crowd was the most voluminous sound now. Fox felt his ears pop as the enclosure was pressurized. Just as the captain had said, handles slid out mechanically from where the railing was. Fox and Krystal took hold of them and looked out the window as the ship began to tremble. Fox went through the launch procedure in his head automatically. _I've done this too many times_, he thought with a shake of his head, _Now to clear the exhaust vents_. Right on cue, steam and water vented onto the launch pad. Fox smiled, and the ship began to shake even more. _Now the inertial dampers_. The trembling lessened as the field came online. _And…._ The ship shuddered and creaked slightly as the thrusters directed their force at the pad below the ship.

The _Cloudrunner_ began to rise steadily into the air, slowly at first, but rapidly gaining height and speed as the thrusters propelled it. This was an exhilarating new experience for Fox. He had seen many spaceship takeoffs, having launched a good many of them himself, but never from an open deck like this one. He watched Corneria City get smaller and smaller as the ship continued upward into the sky. They shot through the clouds, finally punching into the Cornerian stratosphere, when the launch thrusters suddenly cut off. For the briefest second, Fox and Krystal felt the sensation of weightlessness as the ship's weight began to pull it back down. Though the interval was momentary, it seemed a long time before the G-diffuser system came online and halted the ship's vertical momentum. Fox knew that was a normal part of the launch, but it always terrified him. Perhaps that was another reason he had loved the _Great Fox_ so much; when you had launched and been through that particular phase of launch so many times in one ship, you began to build a certain amount of trust in that ship – that the G-diffuser, that integral part of every ship, wouldn't fail and leave you plummeting helplessly through the sky.

Fox hastily pushed the wave of remorse from his mind. He was with Krystal now, and she meant far more to him than any ship ever could. He had resolved that he was going to enjoy himself on this trip no matter what. Krystal leaned against him as she admired the view. It was truly breathtaking; the sea of clouds and water beneath them grew less and less distinct as the ship continued ever upward. The flat horizon began to take on more and more of a curve. The blue of the sky began to wane to black as they passed beyond the ozone of the Cornerian atmosphere.

Looking through the glass at the cosmos and its endless miasma of glittering stars, Krystal was swept away by the emotions of the moment as she held the railing with one hand and Fox with the other. Every known page of her life had been written by the stars. She had wandered among the stars searching for answers; life before that was now just a vague and distant memory, like the last fading of an evening twilight – like a nightmare from which she had shuddered awake into the dark. Fox had come to her from the stars – her Fox, the wild force which completed her by complementing the unwavering serenity of her mind with the raging torrent of his own. She stood on the brink now, euphoric at the constant possibility of being borne away by that flood.

_Peppy Hare's apartment, Corneria City, Planet Corneria. (1713 hours, local time.)_

Peppy scratched his head as he sat in his recliner and watched the news. It wasn't the news itself that disturbed him; in fact, he barely paid any attention to the images that flashed across the television screen. His thoughts were on Fox and Krystal – especially Fox. He did notice the news, of course – it was pretty hard to miss the video of angry protesters in the heart of downtown Corneria City as they waved signs and voiced their collective discontent of the martial government – but Fox's wedding and now honeymoon was very personal to him. Peppy had raised Fox ever since the day James McCloud was killed; although he denied it (as much to convince himself), his main reason for putting off retirement was that he felt Fox still _needed _him, after a fashion. Watching the _Cloudrunner _disappear into the sky earlier that day was, for Peppy, like seeing his usefulness recede into the farthest reaches.

He didn't mind, necessarily – he had long since done his duty, both for Lylat and for Fox – but the feeling did give him pause. It was a kind of emptiness, like the feeling of a blazing fire now reduced to vanishing embers. He knew this day had been coming for a long time, but it still made him feel something of a loss. He had to make himself remember, however reluctantly, that Fox McCloud was not his son – had never been his son, not in the way most wards were for guardians – and so was never truly his to lose.

Something on the news suddenly did catch his full attention as a photograph of General Pepper was displayed on the screen. The anchor reappeared after a few moments, and he began to make his report, saying, "In other news, the Lylatian Federal Defense Force announced today the appointment of its new Chief of Staff, General Pepper. This is the same general who was praised a few weeks ago for his performance during the Aparoid crisis. An independent correspondent, Miss Katt Monroe, has been standing by outside the Defense Force hospital in Corneria City. What can you tell us about this latest development, Katt?"

Falco rushed into the room from the kitchen at the sound of the name given, making sure he was not mistaken, "Did he say 'Katt Monroe', Peppy?"

"Shh!" Peppy waved him off, though he had to admit that he, too, was somewhat surprised at seeing her in front of the hospital with a microphone in her hand.

She struggled to make herself heard over the cries of the protesters in front of the building, "Not much, I'm afraid. We do know that the general's hospitalization is a direct result of the Aparoid incident, and that he is in the final stages of recovery from his injuries. The doctor informed me earlier that he is in good condition and is expected to be released sometime within the week. As to his appointment as the new Chief of Staff, we have not been given very many details. As we all know, the Defense Force Chief of Staff is an appointment which must come directly from the Premiere Secretary. From what I've been told, however, it seems that the Premiere's appointment of General Pepper was largely at the suggestion of the undersecretaries of the Ministry of Defense following the resignation of the previous Chief of Staff."

"So," the anchor asked, "If I understand correctly what you told me earlier, the Premiere has considered _combining_ the Defense Force with the Ministry of Defense and making the Chief of Staff and the Defense Minister essentially one in the same?"

"That's correct," Katt replied, making a gesture with her free hand towards the protesters behind her, "And as you can see, the reaction by the general population as well as organized activist groups has been overwhelmingly negative. Twice already today, the Civil Guard has had to step in and subdue the crowd. I spoke with the leader of one of these activist organizations earlier today, and he said most of these people feel that this is a breach of both political protocol and democratic process."

"In other words, they are not protesting the martial law as much as they are protesting the military's seeming ability to override the appointment process of the Premiere and the Senate?" the anchor asked.

"Oh, make no mistake," Katt explained, "They're protesting the martial law, as well, but they see it more as the fruition of that increased authority than as a simple matter of maintaining order. As you know, the Premiere is not required to consult with the Senate on matters of staff appointments except for his cabinet, but the Senate was not consulted on this 'combining', as you called it, of the Defense Force and the Ministry. That is what has this crowd so steamed, and to be quite frank, there seems to be no end in sight. Reporting live for the CCNN, this is Katt Monroe, Corneria City."

Peppy's sat staring at the screen, not hearing much of anything else that came through the speakers, as Falco went back into the kitchen. "What a mess," Falco muttered. Peppy agreed with an absent nod; the old hare became somewhat alert again as other reports of violence in the city began to appear on the news. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the phone ringing in the kitchen.

"Get that, will you?" Peppy called over his shoulder to Falco, half-listening as Falco answered the phone.

"Peppy Hare's residence," Falco said. Peppy couldn't hear the other voice on the line, but from the tone of Falco's voice, there seemed to be a business-like aspect to the unknown caller. "You're trying to reach who?" Falco continued talking with the caller, "No, he's left the planet… No, no, it's nothing serious… well, serious in a different way, I guess; he's on his honeymoon. Who is this calling? …I see… uh-huh… hmm. He didn't give me a contact number; I don't think he wanted to be reached… urgent? What's the matter, some kind of emergency?" Peppy heard Falco becoming agitated as the voice on the other end of the line seemed less than cooperative. "Huh?" Falco said, "What do you mean 'classified'? …hey, listen, buddy. This is Falco Lombardi. I'm his business partner. Anything involving that involves me also… wa-hey! Chill, man! No need to get riled. Like I said, he didn't give me a contact number. His liner left this morning and- what? Which liner? Oh, uh… it was a Blue Star… hang on a sec," Falco called towards Peppy, putting a hand over the receiver, "Hey, Peppy! What was the name of that ship Fox was on, again?"

"The _Cloudrunner_," Peppy answered without concern; Falco obviously had matters in hand. He still kept one ear towards the kitchen as Falco continued his conversation.

"That's right, the _Cloudrunner_," Falco continued with the unknown caller, "Huh? Oh, it left for Sauria at noon today… what? No, no – noon Cornerian time… say _what_? 'What's he doing'? He's on his honeymoon! How the hell should I know? He's probably wearing out his 'do not disturb' sign. Look – if this is about a contract, he's not taking any right now. You should probably – hello? Hello?" Falco slammed the phone down and traipsed back into the den in a huff.

"Who was that?" Peppy asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Dunno," Falco answered, "He said he was one of Fox's 'business contacts' and that Fox knew him. I thought I knew all of Fox's contacts. This guy sounded like a real creep."

"Don't worry about it," Peppy shrugged, "If he really needs to reach Fox, you gave him enough information to know where to look. With this mess getting hotter and hotter," he swept a hand towards the TV screen, "We're likely to get quite a few contract offers. Shame you and Slippy'll be pretty much on your own. Money could be good, though."

Falco smiled, "Bring it on, then."


	8. Chapter 8

Star Fox: Regime – a fan fiction by Wolf Reynolds  
"Star Fox" and all related characters and trademarks are © Nintendo, Inc.  
Story ©2009 Wolf Reynolds

CHAPTER 8

_On board the __L.F.S. Cloudrunner__, near Area Two (Sector Y) – 2125 hours, local time._

Fox lay on the bed in his stateroom, arms behind his head. He was alone; Krystal wanted to do some shopping before they reached Sauria, and Fox knew he would only be in the way. Besides, she had said she wanted to surprise him. Fox heaved a contented sigh; far be it from him to ruin it for Krystal. Even when she was out in the ship's mall without him, he kept her in his thoughts (as if he could have done otherwise). Strangely, though, his mind kept drifting towards Wolf O'Donnell. The more he thought about Wolf, the more remorse he felt. With Wolf's state of survival uncertain, there were so many issues left unresolved between Fox and his one-time rival – so many things Fox wanted to say to him. Could it truly be said of Wolf that he was Fox's _friend_? There were so many uncertainties; for all of Wolf's bluster, he had saved Fox's life three times – and none of those times had Fox been able to return the favor.

Still, Fox and Wolf had had an interesting association; on Zoness, Wolf had helped Fox and all of his teammates escape. They had gotten away from that slimy place; Fox still didn't like to think of the penal colony and the laborious life he had been forced to live there. Wolf, in that sense, had been an example of courage that kept Fox going. Of course, for all Wolf's faults, Fox had never found him lacking in courage; he had stood firmly against the oppressive taskmasters of Zoness until they beat him – stood to the point that cost him an eye. Yet after Zoness, for reasons Fox couldn't understand, Wolf turned his back on him – and on the entire world, in a sense. Then there was the incident on Corneria; Wolf could easily have killed him or let him die, yet he stepped in. He saved Fox again on the Aparoid home world. Wolf was an enigma that baffled Fox.

Even as Wolf occupied Fox's thoughts, Fox suddenly heard the sound of laser fire and saw the bursts of green light through his porthole. He knew there was the risk of pirates – were they attacking the ship? Fox bolted up from his bed as a fighter flashed by his window; he couldn't see it clearly, but he could have sworn it was a _Wolfen_. _Ironic_, Fox thought_, here I am worrying about Wolf, and he goes and attacks the ship I happen to be on_. Assuming, of course, that the ship was being attacked and that the attacker was Wolf.

Fox waited for awhile, watching the minutes pass. The hallway outside his cabin was quiet, but then he heard footsteps – loud footsteps – coming towards his door. He had already locked it, but his military sense (and his thoughts of Wolf) urged him to discover the identity of the pirate in the hall. He cracked the door open just slightly, and as he did, the pirate burst through the door, slamming it behind him. It _was_ Wolf.

"Wolf!" Fox exclaimed, "What are you-?"

"You!" Wolf pointed at him accusingly, "You left Corneria without a word, you were headed for Sauria, and you didn't even leave Falco a contact number?"

"What's that to you?" Fox said, backing up as Wolf aggressively inched towards him, "I just got married. That's what newlyweds usually do. And how did you find me? What've you done with Krystal?"

Wolf stood in silence for a few moments. He backed up with a smile, sat down in the nearby easy chair, and propped his feet on the table in front of him. "Relax, Fox," he said as he leaned back and crossed his hands behind his head, "She's with Panther and Leon. They're bringing her back here. They won't hurt her. As to how I found you, I managed to get up with Falco and got the name of your ship. He didn't know who I was, of course. I had to wring the information out of him, but I can be very persuasive on the phone. I do hope you're not letting that birdbrain answer _all_ of your calls, though – his disturbing lack of etiquette would drive you right out of business."

"But why are you attacking us?" Fox said, ignoring Wolf's humor.

"Attacking?" Wolf surveyed the room with his eyes, "I have very little interest in this ship. Though I have to admit, it _would _be quite a plunder. I could rob these doddering old fools blind and they'd never know what happened. Still, I haven't got time for that. I needed to talk to you."

Fox looked up, managing to contain his panic. He heaved a sigh of relief as Krystal came into the room with Panther and Leon, Wolf's two cohorts. She was walking by herself; they weren't trying to drag her along – Fox knew they weren't being rough with her. "You needed to _talk_ to me?" Fox continued incredulously, "And you couldn't have waited two days until we got to Sauria?"

"No time," Wolf said. He grinned, "Besides, it's more fun this way." Krystal snorted her disapproval from the back of the room, then went over and sat beside Fox.

"All right," Fox said, trying to be rational, but not disguising his anger, either, "What's so urgent that you have to forcibly board a space liner and interrupt my honeymoon?"

"Listen, Fox," Wolf said, suddenly all seriousness, "A lot's been going on back on Corneria since you left. Things have gotten way out of hand. It was just starting when I called Falco, but it's turned ugly even since then."

"_What_ was just starting?" Fox asked, "What's turned ugly?"

"The Premiere has appointed General Pepper as the new Chief of Staff," Wolf began.

"That's big news, but what's so urgent about that?" Fox said.

"Let me finish," Wolf said firmly, "His appointment as Chief of Staff isn't so strange, but he's also the Defense Minister. The Premiere completely bypassed the Senate in this appointment."

"But he can't do that!" Krystal exclaimed, "Why has the Senate not stepped in?"

"Don't you see? That's just it," Wolf explained, "They _can't _step in. The military and the Premiere have used their collective executive power of martial law to stage a coup – just a few hours ago. We managed to get offworld in the confusion; there's a lot of panic. The military's taken control of the capitol and the inner city, and the Civil Guard is going about rounding up those on the Premiere's list of 'subversives and political dissidents'. Your name's on that list, Fox. You and your whole team."

Fox was taken completely aback. If _he_ had been named as a subversive, that meant that General Pepper had betrayed him. It also meant that Peppy, Slippy, and Falco were in considerable danger, if they hadn't been arrested already. "What about my teammates?" Fox voiced his concerns.

"I tried to get to them and get them out," Panther Caroso spoke up, "They were already gone when I got to your apartment. I'm not sure whether they escaped or if they were captured."

"And what about us?" Fox said, not sure whether he _wanted _to know how Panther knew where to find his apartment, "There are marshals aboard. If they've put a bulletin out on me, they'll be coming after me. All I've got is one blaster, and there'll be seven or eight heavily-armed police aboard. They're bound to come after you, too. I mean, you were hot even before this mess started."

"We'll be fine if I can get you out of here," Wolf answered, "We can carry you to Sargasso in the _Wolfens_, and the marshals – well, let's just say they're not likely to put up much of a fight."

"You didn't - ?" Fox gasped.

"Don't be an idiot," Wolf snapped, "Even Leon isn't _that _trigger-happy. We managed to incapacitate a few of them, and we've created enough panic aboard this ship that the rest are going to have their hands too full to worry about us, but that won't do any good if we don't move now."

"Won't the sentry fighters come after us?" Krystal asked as she and Fox got to their feet.

"We disabled them," Panther grinned, "They never had time to launch."

"And Fox," Wolf nodded towards the blaster on the nightstand beside the bed, "I'd take along that sidearm if I were you."

"Why are you helping us?" Fox asked as he buckled the gun around his waist, "This could be your big chance to put a rival out of business."

"There won't be much of a 'business' for either of us to be put out of if we don't get out of here," Wolf said gruffly, then grinned again, "Besides, I've sort of developed a soft spot for you guys. Someone's got to be around to pull your skins out of the fire."

"Pfft." Fox huffed, "'Pull our skins out of the fire'? You're usually the one holding the match. Not good enough, but it'll have to do for now. I guess I owe you one."

"One?" Wolf raised the brow of his good eye, "I count four. But none of us will be around to collect debts if we don't get a move on."

"Right, let's go," Fox said. The five of them rushed into the hall. The normal corridor lights were out, and most of the light was coming from the pulsing red warning lights. Fox was suddenly reminded very much of the old warships aboard which he had spent many days. He found it strange that no siren was blaring; he didn't think the ship was withoutsome kind of aural alarm, because that wouldn't have been safe. Whether it was turned off because a malfunction or because Wolf's people had prevented it, he couldn't guess. At the moment, he was too busy concentrating on following Wolf to focus on the problems of a ship which was no longer safe for him and Krystal.

The passageways they had to follow were mostly deserted; they occasionally passed a panicked passenger, but they never encountered any attempts to stop them. The docking bay where Star Wolf's three ships were parked was on the top level of the ship, to the stern of the observation deck. As they ran, Fox took a last rueful look out of the glass canopy where he and Krystal had held each other not two days before when the ship took off. They had nearly reached the back of the observation deck and safety when a sudden, violent shaking of the ship stopped them dead in their tracks. The shaking lasted only a few moments, but Wolf seemed confused.

"What was that?" he said, "They couldn't have gotten the engines working again so soon."

Krystal pointed out the window worriedly and said, "Look! They've launched all the lifeboat pods!"

"They're trying to keep us from escaping," Fox said, staring at the departing pods in disbelief. A sudden terror struck him as he began to put puzzle pieces together in his mind. He rushed over to an interface terminal near the door to the docking bay and began to frantically press buttons. "They didn't evacuate the ship; they only launched the pods. They couldn't possibly know where we are, so they're trying to trap us. Still, that seems odd…" Fox gasped as he caught a new bit of information from the screen, "They can't – Wolf! They're going to depressurize the whole ship!"

"No!" Krystal screamed, "They'll kill everyone aboard!"

"Apparently they consider the five of us a worthy exchange," Wolf grunted coldly.

"No, Wolf, you don't understand!" Fox shouted, "There are three thousand people aboard! If they depressurize, the ones that don't get sucked into space will die in the explosion. We've got four minutes."

"Can you stop it?" Wolf asked hurriedly as he set a countdown timer in his robotic eye.

"I don't know, but I have to try," Fox said as he began typing furiously.

"I'll cover the docking bay," Wolf nodded, "Panther, Leon, when I open that door, make sure I don't get shot. They're bound to have gotten people up there by now. Krystal, you stay back. Ready – now!"

Krystal jumped back as Wolf opened the door to the docking bay. As Wolf had surmised, there were several heavily-armed Defense Force Marshals guarding the docking bay. As soon as the door opened, green beams of light zinged through just inches from Wolf's eyepiece. The three Star Wolf teammates took aim and returned their fire as Fox continued to type, trying to prevent a catastrophe. Sweat began to bead on Fox's forehead as the computer continued to reject his command lines.

"Three minutes, Fox," Wolf warned, continuing to fire at their assailants, "When they blow this canopy, that docking bay force shield probably goes with it." Fox said nothing but continued working. Wolf knew he wasn't being ignored, so he kept his attention forward. The battle raged; poor Krystal could do nothing but stand behind the door and huddle beneath her hands. Fox grew more and more frustrated and frantic as command after command was rejected. He took his anger out on the keyboard; that General Pepper was at least indirectly responsible for the impending tragedy made Fox furious to the point of tears.

"One minute, Fox," Wolf barked, "We've got to get out of here!"

"No!" Fox said, "I've got to stop this…" He kept going. Panther reeled as he took a hit in the right side from one of the enemy blasters. He grunted from the pain and instinctively covered the wound with his free hand; he was obviously in pain, but the wound didn't appear too serious. He assured Wolf that he was fine, and Wolf kept firing. They had basically taken control of the cargo bay, and Wolf had activated the remote engine ignition for the _Wolfen_ fighters, but they were running out of time.

"Thirty seconds!" Wolf bellowed, "Time's up, Fox! We have to go now! Come on!"

"No! We can't!" Fox cried, "We have to – unh!" Fox felt himself being seized by the arm as Wolf dragged him away from the terminal. Fox fought Wolf but finally realized that his position was futile. The five of them turned and ran to the _Wolfens_, knowing that there wouldn't be a deck under their feet before long. Not wasting any time for debate, Krystal climbed into the rear seat of Panther's craft, and Fox took the back seat in Wolf's. As soon as the canopies shut, the three fighters shot unceremoniously into empty space.

"Leon," Wolf opened his com channel.

"Yes, boss?" Leon answered.

"Select your video com line and train it right on that ship," Wolf growled, "And make sure you record it. Transmit it to any channel that's active."

"Yes, boss." Leon affirmed coldly.

Fox stared at the doomed _Cloudrunner_, unable to speak or even breathe. He was hoping he might have analyzed the data incorrectly, but somehow he knew he hadn't. His fears were confirmed as he saw the observation glass rise, followed by air rushing from the dying liner and crystallizing into the vacuum of space. After what seemed like an eternity, the inevitable explosion finally came. The ship became a giant fireball, and there was a flash of brilliant white light as the powerful plasma core collapsed. The shock wave jarred the _Wolfens_, nearly sending Fox (who was still trying to strap himself in) into Wolf's lap. Wolf adjusted for the impact and managed to regain control relatively quickly. He turned the ship back in the direction of his faraway base at Sargasso, taking point while Panther and Leon formed on his wing.

Wolf let out a very heavy sigh, partly relief for their escape and partly out of bitterness for the erstwhile liner. "Sorry I had to pull you out of there like that, Fox," Wolf apologized, more sincerely than Fox had ever heard before, "But you're not worth anything to _any _of us dead."

"I know," he sniffled, "I know… Right now I don't feel so good…"

"You'd better not throw up on my leather seats," Wolf said gruffly, "Pull yourself together. If you want vengeance, it's going to take a cool head." Wolf turned his attention to the com line in front of him and pressed the icon for Panther's ship, "Panther – are you doing all right, _hermanito_?"

"I think so, boss," Panther said, "I think it's just a flesh wound. I'll be fine once we get home."

"Home…" Fox sighed, knowing that home was something he wouldn't have for awhile. It was too much to take in at one time; General Pepper's betrayal, the uncertainty of the survival of his teammates – no, not teammates, _family_ – and now the death of three thousand innocent passengers simply because they were on the wrong ship. He crossed his arms on the back of the seat in front of him, put his head down, and just cried.


	9. Chapter 9

Star Fox: Regime – a fan fiction by Wolf Reynolds  
"Star Fox" and all related characters and trademarks are © Nintendo, Inc.  
Story ©2009 Wolf Reynolds

CHAPTER 9

_Corneria Central Defense Force Base – Detention Unit (2337 hours, local time)_

Peppy squinted against the bright light in his face. He couldn't recall a single moment of his life when he had been in more pain. His captors had not been gentle with him, but his physical pain was nothing to what he felt inside. General Pepper had betrayed them and handed them over to the Premiere's police force, and that was bad enough. Worse than that, though, was the emptiness inside him. He had just been told that Fox was dead. At first, he didn't believe it; he had dismissed it as something his captors had said to try and get him to crack. Now, though, what they had been saying made too much sense for it to be entirely falsehood. When they had played the news broadcast showing the explosion of the _Cloudrunner_, it became too frighteningly real. _No survivors. _He held a tiny glimmer of hope, though; even the Cornerian Army that he knew had been known to concoct some pretty elaborate hoaxes, and if _that_ army could, this new nightmare certainly wouldn't hesitate to use his most sensitive points against him. It wasn't much of a hope, but he nursed it, hoping it would keep him from being totally defeated.

He had already won a couple of victories, small as they were, against his captors. Over the years, the Star Fox team had amassed a veritable fortune, and Peppy was responsible for its safekeeping. His captors knew that, which was why they had spent the last two days trying to break his will and make him give up the information they could use to obtain those funds. So far, they had failed. They had used Fox's death to make him despair and realize that no rescue would be coming for him. What they had failed to realize, however, was that that particular tactic only made his resolve stronger. If Fox was truly gone, then Peppy – or whoever was left – would employ those funds to undermine the power of this frightening new regime. And if – when – Peppy ever found Fox alive and well, he knew Fox would need those funds to do the same thing. Peppy wasn't given to personal pride, but in his pain, he _was _quite pleased with himself for his resilience and his ability to withhold the information they required.

Peppy had also gained a victory in that he was secure in the knowledge that Slippy and Falco had made a clean getaway. He wasn't waiting for Falco and Slippy to rescue him; Falco would be too busy trying to find out what happened to Fox, and Slippy would be a complete basket case. He knew they wouldn't be able to rescue him, but at least they were safe. Peppy had given up his hopes for a rescue; he knew that this would be his final stand: to stare defiance into the faces of those who had betrayed Fox McCloud – and everything he and his comrades stood for – to death. Thinking these thoughts as his tormenters entered the room for another session of information-wrestling, Peppy smiled, knowing his enemies defeated before they began.

_Sargasso Space Station – Area Three, Meteo Asteroid Belt – 0142 hours, Corneria Central Time (CCT)_

As the three _Wolfen_ fighters of the Star Wolf team drew nearer to the floating metallic object in the distance, Fox had to mask his surprise. He had expected resistance; after he and his team had broken Wolf's hold on the space station during the Aparoid crisis, the Cornerian Army had swept in behind him and used the station as a base to supposedly take control of the sector, but as Fox looked at it now, Sargasso Space Station didn't seem _alive_. He had been prepared for a fight, either with space fighters from without or hardened LFDF troops from within. The only sign of activity from the station, however, was the steady, sequenced blinking of the VFR approach lights, leading the ships from their space-flight path into the docking bay of the defunct mining outpost.

As Wolf maneuvered his fighter to a soft landing in the docking bay, he seemed neither surprised nor concerned by the absence of military activity. None of the station's interior lights were on, and the forward interface of the _Wolfen_ cast an eerie blue light on the underside of Wolf's face. Wolf shut down his ship's main power, and Fox noticed an odd shift in his weight as Wolf opened his ship's canopy. He immediately knew the reason for the shift as Wolf unlatched his safety harness. Wolf floated from the cockpit of his ship just as the asteroids floated through the space outside of the station. Fox realized that Wolf must have been in complete control of the station. The lights were off and the gravity field was offline; only the most minimal of the life support systems had been left active. Wolf, using the metal rungs on the central column which ran through the station's center, made his way to the system control panels. Within a few moments, the lights came on and the gravity was restored.

Fox noticed the other two _Wolfen _fighters flash by a nearby window then bank and come to a graceful landing across from Wolf's craft. Fox climbed out of the cockpit of the _Wolfen_, happy to set foot on safe – if not exactly solid – ground. Wolf rode the lift down from the station controls as the others climbed from the cockpits of the fighters. They checked over their ships and took stock of the situation, then Wolf led them into a more comfortable room (which Fox guessed had once been a break-room of sorts for the ore miners) where they could assess their current concerns. They had been fortunate in several ways; all of the _Wolfens_ had come through without even a dent. Panther's pain had also subsided, and as he changed out of his flight suit, he was able to show his wound for what it was: very little more than a scratch that would heal on its own. The rest of the scenario, however, was not quite so clear.

Fox spoke before Wolf had a chance. "How did you do it, Wolf?" he asked suspiciously, "The Cornerian Army was supposed to have completely taken control of this place. Looking at it now, you'd never even know they were ever here. How did you get rid of them?"

"How do you know they didn't just leave? They had bigger problems than maintaining a dead mine," Wolf said, "Besides, that's not really a concern at the moment. What we – "

"Yes, it _is_ a concern," Fox interrupted, not satisfied with Wolf's vague answer, "You've got to have some motivation for helping us – and don't give me any more of that 'soft spot' bilge, because I don't buy it. How do we know you haven't got half the army waiting here for us somewhere?"

"All right," Wolf answered irritably, "I've got my uses for you, but they're just that - _mine_. You didn't really think I made a pastime of saving your pitiful neck just out of boredom, did you? But in the end, you'll find them profitable for all of us – knowing my luck, you'll benefit more than I will. Let's say they have nothing to do with the Army… well, nothing to do with handing you over to the Army, at any rate."

"And why should we trust you?" Krystal said, rising to Fox's defense.

"You shouldn't," Wolf said with a dismissive wave, "Any more than you should trust anyone else. As for taking up with us, the way I see it, you simply have no other choice. This backbiting isn't going to accomplish anything. I say we take a look at our more immediate concerns."

"Our top priority should be rescuing the others," Fox said immediately.

"I agree," Wolf said, trying to be very realistic, "But let's look at this logically. There are only five of us. There are so many unknowns. Did they escape or were they captured? If they were captured, where are they held? If they escaped, where did they go? Are they even still alive?" Fox started to protest, but Wolf quickly silenced him. "Sorry, Fox," he said, "But idealism isn't going to get us anywhere on this one. We may very well have to face some unpleasant realities. A lot of people died in that coup."

"We might as well not paint everything black until we know," Krystal stepped in to defuse the impending argument.

"Right," Wolf agreed, "Which brings us to our next concern. We don't know the full situation. How do we find out? The _Wolfens_ operate independently and have much greater distance capabilities than your Arwings, but how does that help? We can't exactly just sweep into Corneria City, rescue your three teammates, and then sweep out again. For one thing, there aren't enough of us. For another, we don't have enough ships. If only Peppy Hare hadn't had to bail on that dreadnaught of yours.'

"Well, wishful thinking isn't going to get us anywhere," Fox huffed, "You said so yourself. If we could get our Arwings off the ground, that might be something, but we wouldn't get much further than that."

"Hmm…" Wolf rested his muzzle thoughtfully on his hand, "That's only one of our problems. This station is the other."

"Why?" Krystal asked.

"Well, look at it," Wolf made a sweeping motion with his arm, "This place is falling apart. It's not very defensible, either. One solid attack and we've had it – we've already seen that they don't care whether they take us alive or not. So there's something else we need here – something that would solve both problems."

"A ship?" Fox guessed.

"A ship," Wolf answered with a sinister grin. Fox immediately knew which ship Wolf had in mind. Getting their hands on the _Pleiades _would be a major victory, and going after it made logical sense; it was the flagship of the Cornerian fleet, it would make a suitable base of operations, and it could transport them over distances that would be impossible for both Arwings and _Wolfens_. There was, of course, the obvious drawback that any attempt to capture it with their present group would be suicide, but Wolf carried himself with a confidence which seemed to belittle this "minor" disadvantage. Krystal saw the greedy gleam in the old pirate's good eye, and she immediately knew what he and Fox were plotting.

"Whoa, whoa," she interjected, "You can't be seriously thinking of stealing the _Pleiades_."

"And why not?" Wolf asked in a humorous tone after exchanging glances with Fox.

"What exactly were you planning to do?" Krystal said in disbelief, "Walk up to Admiral Grey and ask for the launch protocols?"

"Why not?" Wolf asked again, "He and Fox are old friends, right? We could convince him to join us, especially after the _Cloudrunner _incident." Fox's grin melted at this comment.

"I wish I could believe it would be that simple, Wolf," Fox said dejectedly, "But Bill's loyalty to Corneria is greater than his loyalty to me; I know him well enough to know that. You could show him your ship's logged video of the explosion and he'd never believe it – or he'd never believe that the Defense Force had anything to do with it. I don't think he'd turn me in if he saw me on Corneria, but we're not just talking about a chance meeting on the street; we're talking about convincing him to _give _us the Lylatian flagship and give up his first shipboard command – a command he worked very hard for a long time to get."

"Well, we'll just have to do it without his approval, then," Wolf chuckled, "I think we just have to get all the right pieces in place."

"You're crazier than I am," Fox shook his head, "Now we go from convincing the admiral to give up his ship to talking about _stealing _the most advanced, most secure ship in the entire Lylatian fleet right out from under his nose?"

"Insane, isn't it?" Wolf smiled, "Not so farfetched as you might think, but there are a lot of variables involved."

"Would you mind enlightening us?" Krystal asked impatiently.

"There are two things we need in order to make this work," Wolf explained, "First, we need to know where the others are – Peppy, Slippy, and Falco. Just the five of us won't be enough. Any other allies we can find would be useful, too. It doesn't usually take long for some sort of underground resistance movement to pop up after a thing like this, so maybe that's something. Second, we need a bargaining chip. Something of monetary value isn't going to work – not for something this big. We need an advantage – _any _advantage – that will force the LFDF to let us go. I think disabling their inner-space and near-space fighters would help with a getaway, but we need something that affects Admiral Grey directly."

"A hostage?" Fox guessed then came to the realization of what Wolf meant, "Fara? That's never going to work, Wolf. She's too smart for that, and so is Bill."

"Anyone can be broken with the right leverage," Wolf retorted, "Besides, we're dealing with our most immediate problems first, remember?"

"That's getting the others out," Fox nodded thoughtfully, "And as much restraint as this is taking me, we can't just swoop in guns blazing. We need to clear up at least some of the unknowns before we can even hope to formulate a plan, and the only way to do that is to find out what's going on back on Corneria. We need contacts."

"He's right," Krystal agreed, "This place isn't so badly off that it doesn't make a suitable nerve center. We need people who can tell us what's going on down there. Maybe someone can get us a lead on the others."

"Yes, yes," Wolf agreed with an impatient tone, obviously wanting to expand on that thought, "But that's not going to be enough. We need our own people down there. You and Fox are still too hot at the moment. I'd be willing to venture that they're so caught up looking for you and other 'dissidents' that they probably won't pay much attention to my people. Panther and Leon could infiltrate the city without attracting much notice." Panther reacted visibly to this comment, and Fox wasn't sure whether he was flinching at Wolf's suggestion or excited at the prospect of seeing some action. Leon, as always, remained coldly detached.

"Not you?" Fox asked curiously, "I would think this would be the type of thing you'd want to be in on."

"Nah," Wolf said with another dismissive wave, annoying Fox by the fact that he seemed to be thinking of the whole thing as a big game, "Let Panther and Leon have their fun. Besides, someone has to stay behind and run the station. We can't _all_ go to Corneria at the moment, and that means someone has to keep the lights on. Not many things in this dump take care of themselves, unfortunately. You don't know the systems well enough to keep them running. It's no fun anymore, Fox – I'm telling you, I think I've become less of a pirate and more of a mechanic. But let's not go off half-cocked; we're all to tired to be useful at the moment. Panther and Leon, I want you on your way to Corneria by 1100 hours tomorrow morning. Between now and then, we should all get some sleep." All of them stood up except Wolf. Panther and Leon obviously knew where to go already, but Wolf spoke up on Krystal's behalf, "There's a room for you and Fox on Level 2; we never needed it, but it's clean, so it's all yours. Fox, could you wait up for a few minutes? We need to talk some more, I think."

Krystal shot Wolf a mistrusting glance; she had reached a sort of understanding with Wolf, but she still wasn't ready to fully trust him. "I'll wait, Fox," she said as Panther and Leon left the makeshift lounge.

"Don't bother," Wolf put in, "This isn't really a big concern."

Krystal started to argue, but Fox reassured her. "Don't worry, Krys. We're not going to plan anything without you," he said, giving her a quick hug, "Nothing to worry about; I think we're safe here. I'll be along in a little while." Krystal wasn't completely satisfied, but she turned and left Fox alone with Wolf.

Wolf waited until Krystal was out of hearing range and then turned worriedly to Fox. "I didn't want to talk about this while she was still in here," Wolf started, "But you need to know. They have Peppy. Panther said they were trying to sweat some things out of him – something to do with Star Fox."

Fox gasped audibly. _The account codes! Oh, Peppy… _He took a few minutes to compose himself, then said suspiciously, "How did Panther find out?"

Wolf grinned evilly, "Gave that Army jerk a good 'sweating out'. Time they got a taste of their own medicine, eh? Fox, listen to me. I'm _not _going to let the Army have you. We're going to get out of this mess, but you _have_ to trust me."

"Why should I?" Fox burst out, "You turned on me back on Zoness, then you helped Andross… kill my dad. You've helped me out a few times since, but yours is always the path of least resistance and greatest profit. This time doesn't seem any different. _Why should I trust you?_"

"I just saved your skin for the fourth time," Wolf said indignantly, "Doesn't that count for something?"

"And I'm grateful, as always," Fox huffed, "But you always have ulterior motives – you just admitted as much when we were talking a few minutes ago."

"Fox…" Wolf started, then sighed. He thought for a few moments how to respond to Fox. "Fox," he began, "Nothing's going to make up for what happened to James McCloud. I _know_ that, and I know what happened was my fault. Maybe throwing myself in the line of fire is my way of trying to purge that. I can't bring him back, but I can correct some of the mistakes I made back then – that's why I've been sort of keeping an eye on you. But we're stuck in the middle of something that's over both of our heads, and we can't get out of it if we're at each other's throats. Please trust me, Fox."

"Why are you helping me?" Fox asked again, "I need to know."

"Because, I… I care about you, Fox," Wolf said uncomfortably. Fox was surprised; this was a sensitive side of Wolf that he had never seen. "All right," Wolf turned cold again, "There it is, out there in the open. I care what happens to you. I want to see you and Krystal settle down and raise a family – get out of this crazy business of getting shot at. No one's going to live forever, and you need to settle down before you get to be too much like me. Besides – this _is _the path of greatest profit, though admittedly not of least resistance."

"How do you figure?" Fox asked.

"Well," Wolf smiled, "We're looking at stealing a very valuable ship – and it's valuable whether we use it or ransom it."

"But that isn't going to get peppy back," Fox sighed, "What do we do?"

"Just what you said," Wolf reassured him, "We've got to establish contacts on the ground and find out what's going on down there. We're mercenaries, right? We know how to play factions against one another. They've all got something the other wants. We just have to capitalize on that in terms of information and money."

"Especially money, right?" Fox said caustically.

Wolf refused to be baited and treated Fox's caustic remark as a serious question. "No, that kind of money isn't going to help us much at this point," he said, "We need information more. If we can find Falco and Slippy, they're bound to know what's going on better than we do. The trick is getting in there, Fox. It's going to be tough – very tough."


	10. Chapter 10

Star Fox: Regime – a fan fiction by Wolf Reynolds  
"Star Fox" and all related characters and trademarks are © Nintendo, Inc.  
Story ©2009 Wolf Reynolds

CHAPTER 10

_North Argent Street, Space Port District – Corneria City, Planet Corneria. (2246 hours, CCT)._

Slippy cradled his bruised arm as he and Falco ducked off of Argent Street and into an alley. Falco pulled out a blaster and held it ready as the sound of Civil Guard squad vehicles drew closer. He held his breath, hoping he and Slippy had lost their relentless pursuers even as the sirens grew louder. They had; the red and blue flashing lights whirred past at blistering speed, and the sirens slowly faded into the distance. Falco let out a slow sigh of relief and returned his gun to its holster beneath his leather jacket. This was Falco's element; his running with the interplanetary gangs had gotten him used to outsmarting the Cornerian police. Unfortunately for Falco, Slippy's experience was far more limited. On top of that, Slippy's father was the director of Research and Development for the Cornerian Army – Slippy had had no contact with his dad since the coup, so the possibility that Beltino, his own father, had been involved in the betrayal hung like a lead weight over his shoulders.

In spite of their recent close call with the Civil Guard, Falco thought things were looking up somewhat. They had gotten away from the Guard back at Fox's apartment – except Peppy, but he was gone by the time Falco even knew what was happening – and they had just gotten away from them again. Now they had made it to the inner space port district of Corneria City. If there was one place in the city where they could blend in and throw the Guard off their trail, it was here. This was Corneria City's down-and-out district; shady, dirty, and generally avoided by upstanding citizens. The police would look for them here, of course, but they could hide pretty easily here from even the most meticulous search. They could, at the very least, plan their next move from here.

Falco heaved a few ragged breaths, winded from the six-block run from the Cornerian police. He became slightly embarrassed when he realized that Slippy wasn't breathing nearly as hard. _I'm out of shape_, he thought unhappily. _I am definitely hitting the gym if we ever get out of this alive. _He suddenly felt guilty for the thought. _Which is more than Fox got_… When his thoughts returned to Fox, his guilt quickly turned to rage. Falco wasn't overly knowledgeable of shipboard technology, but he wasn't completely ignorant, either. Liners didn't suffer "pressurization malfunctions." Falco knew what was obvious if not overtly stated – the _Cloudrunner _and everyone aboard had been sacrificed to destroy Fox McCloud. _General Pepper is going to pay through the nose for this_. _If I ever get my hands on him…_ he didn't bother to finish the thought. There would be time for creative plotting later.

"Do you think they've gone, Falco?" Slippy sniffled, shaking Falco out of his inward rage.

"Yeah," Falco muttered, "Yeah, we're safe here for now, I think. Let's sit and rest awhile. Sleep a bit if you need it. I'll keep an eye out." Falco sat and leaned against the brick wall forming one side of the alley. He hoped Slippy would take the hint and get some rest; Falco sensed that Slippy was just about ready to go all to pieces. He couldn't really blame him, but a total wet blanket was the last thing he needed at the moment. He knew Slippy was leaning on him for emotional support, but his own nerves were too shot for him to be very supportive.

Falco glanced over his shoulder several times, listening for any noises or any signs of someone approaching. He was surprised when he felt Slippy's head resting against his shoulder, but he didn't say anything; poor Slippy was having a much worse time of it than he was. If he could let Slippy lean on him for emotional support, there was no reason he couldn't lean on him for warmth against the cold breeze of the chilly autumn night. As the adrenaline of the recent chase began to wear off, Falco began to realize just how cold it was. He fought the cold and fought his weariness. He didn't dare close his eyes; in his present state, he knew he would be asleep in seconds, and sleep was a risk he just couldn't take.

_Sargasso Space Station – Area Three, Meteo Asteroid Belt – 2352 hours, Corneria Central Time (CCT)_

Fox sat back in one of the dilapidated chairs in the makeshift communication room of the space station. He was impressed by what Wolf and his team had managed to accomplish with Sargasso. Although the station was still run-down and rickety, Wolf had managed to turn a dead hunk of metal into a viable ops center for him and his pirates. Now they were using that ops center to coordinate their search for Fox's three missing teammates. Fox tried to stay collected and comfortable; Panther and Leon had been dispatched to Corneria that morning and had reached the city a few hours earlier, so now all Fox could do was wait. Krystal had gone to bed, unable to keep her eyes open. Wolf sat in another chair on the other side of the room, also half-asleep. Fox was the only one completely alert; sleep (or even drowsiness) completely eluded him. He and Wolf were monitoring for contact – any contact – from Corneria. Panther reported on his and Leon's progress every so often, but Wolf and Fox were hoping they might discover something through other channels, as well. So far, however, their search had turned up nothing. Fox was restless; he was waiting for _anything_ to come up. At the moment, the room remained in near-total silence. Panther wasn't due to report for another hour, and the other channels were almost completely dead at this time of night. If a resistance movement existed on Corneria, they were communicating with short-range equipment.

Wolf woke up and broke the silence with a wide yawn. "Relax, Fox," he said, "We're doing everything we can. This place really wasn't meant to be a listening post, you know."

"Yeah, I know," Fox answered.

"Why don't you get some rest?" Wolf said, "You must be about ready to drop."

"I would," Fox answered, "But I just can't seem to calm down."

"You've played waiting games before, Fox," Wolf reminded him, "This isn't any different."

"It's always different when it's one of your own, Wolf," Fox said brusquely, "If Peppy or one of the others were to… you know, get killed… I would–"

"You'd what?" Wolf interrupted sharply, "Shut down? Quit? You think that'd get them back? You think that's what they'd _want_ you to do? It _can't _be different, Fox. Even when it's one of your own. _Especially_ when it's one of your own. If it's different, you louse things up – lousing things up gets people killed."

"All right," Fox said crossly, "But that doesn't mean I have to be happy about it."

"Who's happy?" Wolf said, "I didn't ask you to do a song and dance. But you're no use to anyone if you can't keep your eyes open. Go get some sleep; I'll let you know as soon as I hear something. You're only making this harder."

"If I could sleep, I would," Fox muttered as he turned back to his computer and started tapping away at the keyboard, "If you must know, I'm trying to bring up the technical schematics of the _Pleiades_. They cut off my security access, but I'm hoping to get in using some of Beltino Toad's backdoor protocols."

"Really?" Wolf was instantly wide awake and very interested, "Any success?"

"Well, I'm not in yet," Fox admitted, "But I think I can get his list of code keys. He recycles them, you know. Slippy showed me all of this once, but that was some time ago."

"So there _is_ more to that little wimp than meaningless fluff," Wolf mused, "Keep trying – just don't let them trace anything back here or we're toast."

Time passed at an agonizingly slow pace. Fox was occupied with the task he had set for himself, but it was a daunting task, and he had difficulty staying focused; the uncertainty of Falco's and Slippy's situation (and the painful certainty of Peppy's situation) caused his mind to wander. Wolf's head was rolled back, and he had dozed off; his eye was shut, and his breathing was heavy and just shy of a snore. Fox envied Wolf for his levelheadedness. How Wolf was managing to stay calm and collected was a mystery. Of course, _he_ wasn't missing three of his closest friends, and he hadn't been denounced as an enemy of the state by someone who had always been a mentor before. Wolf was calmer than Fox, but Wolf also had much less reason to be agitated. Fox knew this situation was much harder on Krystal than on him. It was hard for Fox to believe that less than three years before he had been complaining about not being needed. Now he was being pulled in several directions at once. _If we ever get out of this_, he thought, _I'm never going to even think that I'm bored ever again._ Fox refocused his attention on the screen in front of him. If he could get this to work, he would be one step closer to getting his hands on the biggest bargaining chip in the entire Lylatian military. _And I'll be one step closer to getting even with General Pepper_, he thought bitterly.

Fox was getting increasingly frustrated; he was trying to remember the hacking procedure Slippy had shown him, but it kept escaping him. Or was it possible Beltino had overhauled his file system? From what Slippy had said, Beltino wasn't even aware that Slippy knew how to get in. Fox thought he also remembered Beltino mentioning something about the emergency overrides he had built into his programs, too. Something that could be used if… _Of course! _Fox remembered and began typing again, _He wanted Slippy to be able to get through to his interface if there were ever an attack on Corneria. Oh, please let Beltino still be on our side… _Fox entered Slippy's code key and held his breath. A moment later, Beltino's file hierarchy appeared on the screen. Fox gasped with relief. He queried the files for the _Pleiades _and smiled broadly as blueprints, technical readouts, and measurement data streamed across the screen. "I got it!" Fox shouted excitedly, grinning broadly. Wolf awoke with such a start that he very nearly fell out of his chair.

Wolf shook it off and got up from his seat, walking over to look at Fox's screen. Wolf beamed from ear to ear. "Way to go," he said, "I thought it would take longer. How long've I been out?"

"Not long," Fox answered, "Beltino left Slippy a way in that could override the other security protocols. Slippy told me about it and showed me how to use it – Beltino didn't know that. He didn't cut that subroutine out of his login process."

"I haven't got a head for that technical jabber," Wolf shook his head in annoyance, "What does all that boil down to?"

"Well, the main thing is that I have complete access to the LFDF network without them even knowing I'm doing it," Fox explained, "The other thing is there's a very good chance that the research director of the entire Lylatian War Bureau is trying to help us out."

"You don't think this is some sort of trap?" Wolf asked cautiously.

Fox's high spirits immediately melted. "I hadn't thought of that," he said dismally, "They couldn't trace it here, anyway, if that's what you're worried about. I won't try to explain it, but let's just say anyone trying to find this end is in for a nasty surprise. Yeah, I guess they _could _be trying to lure us back to Corneria. But I can't think Beltino would do something like that."

"There are a lot of things you didn't think General Pepper would ever do," Wolf reminded him.

"True," Fox said sullenly. He looked at the list of Beltino's files again, "I'm going to download all of this onto the station's servers."

"I have a bad feeling about this, Fox," Wolf said nervously, "You're _sure_ they can't trace you here? How do you know they won't make the connection as soon as you download it?"

"Because I'm using General Pepper's IP masking program," Fox answered with a grin, "They'll never even know their systems have been accessed. And if they do, they'll think it was Beltino."

"Devious," Wolf snickered, "Why not see if you can find Peppy while you're in there?"

"That was foremost in my mind from the beginning," Fox replied as the computer began to copy Beltino's files, "This stuff on the _Pleiades_ was really a test. It was something we needed anyway, but I'm hoping it'll lead me to the bigger fish. It could take a very long time, though." Fox shook his head in frustration and said, "There's an awful lot of files here."

"Just how many files are we talking about?" Wolf said as he turned to go back to his chair.

"I can't get a complete count," Fox answered, "Over nine thousand." Wolf just shrugged and sat back down. "I ought to be able to narrow it down, though," Fox went on, "Some of these files are just system files. I'm really looking for operation reports, red lists, things like that."

Fox looked through the neatly-organized database of files. His search went on and on; he opened and scanned file after document after endless report. Peppy's name seemed nowhere to be found. Fox didn't give up; it _had _to be there _somewhere_. He kept looking through the files; he noted anything of interest he came across, whether it pertained to Peppy or not. His overall efforts, however, continued to be fruitless. He became gradually more aggravated; every time he came across a file that showed some promise, it was encrypted. Fox needed Slippy there; getting into the main system was no trouble for Fox, but trying to decrypt individual files… Fox was out of his depth, and he knew it. Unfortunately, he was grasping at straws. Panther's report had come and gone, and Wolf had nodded off again. As alert as he had been when he was talking to Wolf, his lack of sleep was finally beginning to catch up with him. Fox tried as hard as he could to stay focused on his unproductive search, but the words on the screen kept blurring as a trancelike lethargy settled over him. He rubbed his uncooperative eyes futilely. The dry reading and the steady, rhythmic sound of Wolf's breathing began to weight down his alertness. Just a few heavy-eyed minutes later, Fox was completely unconscious.


	11. Chapter 11

Star Fox: Regime – a fan fiction by Wolf Reynolds  
"Star Fox" and all related characters and trademarks are © Nintendo, Inc.  
Story ©2009 Wolf Reynolds

CHAPTER 11

_Corneria City East Waterfront, Space Port District – Corneria City, Planet Corneria. (2036 hours, CCT)._

Falco thought he might go insane. He had thought and hoped that he would be less noticeable hiding near the city's eastern waterfront, but his reputation and Slippy's artlessness made it very difficult for them to blend in. They'd had a few more run-ins with the Civil Guard, but Falco thought he might even welcome a chase or a simple firefight rather than continuing with the constant uncertainty. Falco knew they needed to get offworld as soon as possible; he didn't want to leave Peppy behind, but the grim realism was that Peppy was probably under closer guard than anyone on Corneria – getting him out with nothing but Slippy and his own wits was impossible. If he could make some contacts, he might be able to coordinate a rescue effort with an offworld retreat – all that junk in Sector Y might not be as useless as he thought. Unfortunately, they were stuck in a slummy motel overlooking a wharf in the Space Port District. Falco had some ideas, but none of them would get them out completely. He had one hole card that not even General Pepper knew about, and it was hidden right here at the waterfront – the _Blue Marine_. Fox had built the two-man submarine with Peppy and his dad; now Falco and Slippy were left, and they knew where it was and how to get to it. Unfortunately, it wouldn't do what they needed it to do; it would get them out of the city (assuming it was still running), but they would have nowhere to go from there, even if they lived aboard the sub for weeks.

Falco hadn't reminded Slippy of the _Blue Marine _yet; Falco wanted to make the decision on his own without pressure from Slippy. Slippy would have jumped on the idea as soon as Falco mentioned it, without thinking about the possible disadvantages. Falco made a list of those disadvantages in his mind: they'd have nowhere to go, they'd have a hard time getting back into the city if they had to, and there would only be enough supplies in the emergency kit to last for two weeks or so. The two main advantages were considerable, though: they would be completely out of the Civil Guard's reach, and they would have access to a coded subspace transmitter. They could use the _Blue Marine_ to call for help, but there were no guarantees that anyone would respond. Falco sighed as he looked dolefully around the room, noticing the cracked wall plaster and the dark spots on the carpet. He took another bite of the undercooked ramen noodles he was eating. _Anything_ had to be better than _this_ dump. _Better get used to it, Falco Lombardi,_ he thought glumly, _You probably won't be rejoining civilization for awhile._ His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Slippy's voice.

"Fox…" Slippy stood by the window and looked up into the cold, unfeeling sky. Poor Slippy. Every time they had a close call, they would just barely escape, and as soon as the adrenaline from the chase died down, he'd slip back into his mournful depression. Falco was able to channel all of his own depression into inward rage, usually directed at General Pepper. That rage fed his strength. Slippy, unfortunately, wasn't as strong. Falco felt bad for Slippy, but he would need his help to get them out of this, and he knew Slippy would be useless like this.

"C'mon, Slip," Falco said, "You can't think about it."

Slippy sniffled, "But Fox and Krystal are… Falco, don't you feel _anything_?"

Falco got up and walked over to where Slippy stood. "We have to control what we feel and stop dwelling on what's out of our hands."

Slippy broke down, tears streaming down his face. _Great_, Falco thought, his patience strained to its limit, _Just what I need_. "Come on, Slippy, knock it off," he said, "I'm not kidding." Slippy didn't stop; he threw back his head and just wailed. The sound abruptly stopped when Falco struck him across the face. "Cut it out!" Falco snapped, "Listen, Slippy, it's time to grow up. We've got problems of our own here. I need your help, and you're going to pull both of us down if you're a complete basket case. I don't have the time or energy to dry out a wet blanket. You've got to pull yourself together. Now I'll get us out of this, but I can't hold your hand the whole way."

Slippy just stood staring at Falco, lower lip trembling. Finally, he spoke tenuously. "What are we going to do?" he asked, "Do you have a way to get us out of here?"

Falco grunted. He hoped he wouldn't be forced into starting this now, but then he guessed this was as good a time as any. "I think so," he finally said with a tense smile, "I'm surprised you haven't thought of it by now, to be honest."

"Thought of what?" Slippy cocked his head to one side.

"The _Blue Marine_," Falco answered.

"I had thought of it," Slippy muttered dejectedly, "Do you think it's still there?" Slippy motioned towards the docks with his shoulder. "We haven't used that thing in years. I doubt it even still works. Besides, I doubt they would have just let it sit there after the coup."

"No one but us knows it's there, Slip," Falco reminded him, "I say it's worth a shot. I've been working it out, and we could get down there and out of the city by morning. Unless you'd rather stay here in this upholstered fleapit." Falco began to list the advantages to Slippy, reminding him that there was food aboard, that the emergency kit included tools to keep the sub in working order, and that there was a transmitter. He didn't sugar-coat the disadvantages, but Slippy seemed to have pulled himself back to rationality. After discussion and a good deal of planning, they finally decided to try for it.

The two of them gathered what little they had and made their way out to the street. Falco handed Slippy a wad of cash and gestured towards a nearby convenience store, where the lights were still on. "Listen," he said carefully, making sure Slippy would understand clearly, "I want you to go in there and get as much food and drink as that money will buy. Nonperishable would be best. If everything is as we left it, there should be enough food packs aboard to last two weeks, but I don't want to chance it. And that could buy us a few extra days, in any case. Try to be nonchalant. We don't want to attract any attention. You've still got a sat-phone?" Slippy nodded. "Don't use it unless you have to – unless someone unfriendly finds you. Otherwise you'll bring the whole Cornerian Army down on us. And don't call; just beep me. Meet me down at the dock as soon as you get finished. I'm going down there to make sure everything's there. If you get into trouble, beep me and I'll come and get you out."

"Falco?" Slippy began.

"What is it?"

Slippy hesitated for a few long moments, then said, "If you don't hear from me in fifteen minutes, leave without me."

Falco made a noise that was somewhere between a chuckle and a choking down of emotion then stared at Slippy for a long moment. _Maybe the little twerp's not as hopeless as I thought_. "Not gonna happen, Slip," he said at last, "We're leaving together or we're not leaving at all. Now get going. I don't want to stand out here in the street all night."

Slippy nodded as Falco rushed down the street towards the wharf. Falco spent the next few minutes (though he could have sworn it was hours) ducking and weaving his way through the darkened streets. He stopped every time he crossed an alley or dodged the glow of a streetlamp, checking in all directions for signs of movement. Keeping to the shadows, he wove his way across the grimy waterfront until he finally found himself standing on the quay itself. He looked down into the polluted water and tried to see the submarine; it would be parked under the dock itself, so as not to draw attention. He couldn't see it clearly, but the vague shape was visible enough for him to be certain that it was indeed the _Blue Marine_. He sat down on the pier; all he could do now was wait for Slippy.

After what the two of them had been through over the last two days, the wait was not nearly as agonizing as Falco had been expecting. Slippy appeared after only a few minutes with an armful of grocery bags. "Is it still down there, Falco?" he asked.

"It's down there, all right," Falco answered, "Between those pylons, just under the wharf. Please tell me you still have the remote access device."

"It was in my cabin on the _Great Fox_ when…" Slippy looked down at his feet and set the bags on the concrete. "I'm sorry, Falco," he said sincerely, fumbling for the right words, "It's just I didn't see any sense carrying it around… you know, it's not like we've used it lately…"

"Forget it," Falco said, "It's nobody's fault." He looked down at the murky water. "Well," he said with a sigh, "Only one thing to do, then." Falco took off his shirt and carelessly tossed it in Slippy's direction. "Hold this," he said, "I'll have to bring it up myself. I just hope the hatch will still open." Falco took a deep breath and dove gracefully into the frigid seawater. The shock of the freezing water made him feel as though he had just run into a brick wall. This may well have been the greatest physical challenge he had ever faced. The cold of the water was difficult enough, but between the darkness and the pollution, Falco couldn't see anything. He was completely blind, relying solely on his tactile senses to find the _Blue Marine_'s rear entry hatch – tactile senses that were numb from the freezing cold. He was thankful for his strong lungs; he could hold his breath for several minutes. Even longer than Fox could, in fact. The fleeting thought crossed Falco's mind that Slippy would have been better suited to this, but he dismissed that thought as soon as he tried to open the sealed hatch. Slippy just didn't have that kind of physical strength.

Falco's blood pounded in his head as he tried to force the lever down to open the hatch. It wouldn't budge. Falco tried again; still the lever didn't move. With one last push using every ounce of his strength, Falco finally managed to pry the lever down. He was prepared as the airlock opened and let out a blast of air. Falco swam into the airlock and shut the hatch behind him, his lungs screaming for respite. Falco knew he was committed at this point; he hoped the _Blue Marine_ airlock system still functioned properly. If the purge cycle didn't get the water out soon…

Then the water began to recede. Falco gasped as the water level finally dropped low enough for him to breathe. He shook himself off and let himself drip dry for a few moments before he opened the inner door. He felt his way around the inky darkness until he found the ignition cycle button. He pressed it and held his breath, hoping against hope that the systems would come online. He heard the high-pitched whine of the generator and waited for it to turn over. Then the lights flickered on, piercing the blackness. Falco nearly leaped for joy as the whir of the main engines came to life. Now that the lights were on, Falco took a quick stock of the situation. The _Blue Marine_ was by no means roomy, but it was livable, even if a little cozy. It was neatly sectioned into a passenger compartment and an operation area. Towards the front, there was a windshield which encompassed three sides and came down from the top. Two black leather seats sat side by side beneath the windshield, atop a slightly-raised deck area and surrounded by numerous control panels. Behind the "flight" deck was the living area; on the starboard side were two small bunks, one atop the other. To port were a lavatory and lockers, which contained their supplies. Falco checked; all of the food packs were still there, along with two old red jumpsuits.

Falco quickly changed into one of the dry suits and was hit by a wave of remorse when he found an old pair of Fox's sunglasses in one of the pockets. This had been Fox's. He didn't have time for this, though; Slippy would have heard the engines start, but he was waiting on the pier. And Falco knew Slippy might not have been the only one waiting. He quickly went forward and scanned the control panel for a few moments, looking for the right switches and levers. He had only piloted the _Blue Marine_ once, and that had been some years ago. He managed, though. The submersible backed up slowly and rose gracefully above the surface of the sludgy water. To Falco's great relief, Slippy was still alone on the dock. He got up from his seat, opened the top hatch, and climbed out about halfway. And saw about six Civil Guard squad cars screaming towards the dock. "Time to go, Slippy!" he yelled, "We've got company!"

Slippy needed no second bidding. He grabbed the two bags of food and leaped aboard from the dock, miraculously managing to keep his footing on the slick metal. Two laser blasts whizzed over Slippy's head as he lunged for the hatch. Falco didn't hear what the police said over the bullhorn, but he had no intention of complying, whatever it was. As soon as the two of them were under, Falco slammed the hatch shut and made sure the gasket resealed. He rushed forward and took the seat on the port side. He brought the two laser cannons online and fervently hoped he wouldn't have to use them. "Slippy, you take the control surfaces. You know where everything is, right?" Slippy nodded as he sat down in the other seat. "Personally, I prefer the air," Falco muttered as he adjusted the holographic targeting reticle that appeared on the windshield. "Engines full reverse," he ordered. The dock began to pull back from view, slowly at first, then more quickly. Falco held his fire; because of their position, the Civil Guard was unable to bring any of its powerful weapons to bear.

As soon as they were clear of the pier, Falco checked one of the navigational readouts and gave a string of maneuvering orders. "All right, Slippy. Bring us to course zero-seven-five. Ahead full, and take us down to ten meters; we don't want to go too deep yet. You got all that?" Slippy answered with frenzied adjustments to the control panels. The dock disappeared completely from view as the craft turned around to face the breakwater and the open sea beyond. Then the _Blue Marine_ stopped for a moment as Slippy threw the engines from reverse into ahead. The engines' whine grew louder, and the sub surged forward. Falco instinctively looked up as water swirled over the top of the windshield. They had escaped from the Civil Guard, but one final obstacle still stood between them and safety.

"All stop," Falco said as they drifted further from the dock and out into the harbor. Slippy complied, and the _Blue Marine_'s forward motion ceased. The breakwater loomed in front of them like a fortress wall, its only gap blocked on the surface.

"What is it?" Slippy asked, "Why are we stopping?"

"That Coast Guard patrol boat is blocking the exit, in case you hadn't noticed," Falco answered.

"Why not just torpedo it?" Slippy looked at Falco quizzically.

"Too risky," Falco shook his head, "It's only blocking the surface right now. If we sink it, it'll block the gap. We'll be sealed in the harbor." Falco looked at his radar plot, then at the hull of the boat blocking their way, mentally gauging the distance between the bottom of the boat and the seabed. "We'll have to go under it."

"Do you think there's enough room?" Slippy asked skeptically.

"We're about to find out," Falco said, "Ahead full. Twenty degrees down angle on the diving planes."

"Right," Slippy said.

The _Blue Marine _lurched forward again, drawing ever closer to the sea floor as they approached the breakwater gap. Falco took a deep breath as they went through the gap. He was answered by the tooth-wrenching sound of scraping metal; the top of the sub was scraping against the hull of the patrol boat, but they weren't slowing, and the _Blue Marine'_s systems were unaffected. At long last, the noise stopped, and the _Blue Marine_ and its two anxious occupants were clear into the open sea. _Safe at last, _Falco thought. _Safe at last. Now all we have to do is find a way out of here._


	12. Chapter 12

Star Fox: Regime – a fan fiction by Wolf Reynolds  
"Star Fox" and all related characters and trademarks are © Nintendo, Inc.  
Story ©2009 Wolf Reynolds

CHAPTER 12

_East Realgar Street, near Fox McCloud's Residence – Corneria City, Planet Corneria. (1739 hours, CCT)._

Panther Caroso kept his blaster handy as he searched the streets of Corneria City for clues that might point him to the whereabouts of Fox McCloud's missing teammates. When he stopped to think about it, Panther found it rather odd that _he _should be searching for someone from the Star Fox team. His first encounter with Fox and his cohorts had ended in a rather unfriendly exchange of blaster fire. How things had managed to turn around during the Aparoid crisis – and even more, how Fox and Wolf had managed to _stay _allies this time – was completely beyond Panther's reasoning. Panther didn't go back as far with Star Wolf as Leon did, but he had known Wolf O'Donnell long enough and well enough to trust his judgment. He owed Wolf a lot; maybe Wolf had a similar debt with Fox, but Panther couldn't see how. Panther suspected that Wolf had less admirable motives; setting up a trap to get Star Fox out of their way once and for all, perhaps. Panther only hoped that Krystal McCloud would be spared the worst of it. The thought of Krystal was enough to make him smile. Panther wasn't interested in a permanent relationship, of course, but it would have been a true shame if Krystal's beauty were to be marred by whatever sinister plan Wolf was hatching.

Right now, Panther was more interested in finding Falco Lombardi than pondering Wolf's long-term plans. He decided to look for leads towards Falco first; Peppy was heavily guarded in the Cornerian Army Headquarters, and Panther very much doubted that Slippy could accomplish much on his own. Peppy had been neutralized, and Slippy had either been captured or was with Falco. Now Panther, wearing the combat uniform of a Cornerian Army lieutenant-colonel, sat in the driver's seat of a Cornerian Army APC that he and Leon had stolen. He was waiting for Leon to return from Fox's apartment; they had started there when they arrived two days ago, but a few tips had prompted them to return. Panther didn't expect Leon to find anything, but it was worth a look. He had helped Leon subdue the soldiers who had been posted as guards, and now he was waiting for Leon to come out of the building so they could get away with no one the wiser. He noticed Leon immediately when he came out of the apartment complex, but no one else would have; he and Panther were both wearing Cornerian Army fatigues that they had managed to acquire, and Leon's detached personality made it easy for him to be inconspicuous. Leon climbed into the APC and took the seat beside Panther.

Panther switched on the engine as he turned to Leon and gave an inquisitive look. "Well?" he asked, "Any sign of them?"

"Nothing," Leon answered coolly, "I knew there wouldn't be. We looked here already. We're going in circles."

"Well, do you have any better ideas?" Panther asked curtly, "You've known Lombardi longer than I have. If you were in his position, where would _you_ go? You've got to think like him."

"No one can think quite like Falco Lombardi," Leon answered as though he were reading from a dossier, "That's the only reason I know he hasn't been captured. I doubt even Fox McCloud could match wits with Falco."

"That doesn't help us at all," Panther shook his head, "If he's that impossible for the CG to find, then we're probably wasting our time."

"Well, I wouldn't say _that_," Leon replied, "We have something the Civil Guard doesn't. We know his contacts, and we know how he operates."

"His contacts?" Panther thought aloud, trying to recall a vague memory, "Who was that independent reporter… Monroe, was it? Weren't she and Falco… involved at one time?"

"Falco's rather touchy about that," Leon nodded, "McCloud says that Falco and Katt were just friends, but I'm not so sure. He gets awfully defensive for it being so trivial. But yes, Falco and Katt go back quite some time."

"I guess it doesn't matter if we can't find her either," Panther snorted to himself, "I think getting in touch with his contacts may be the way to go, though. Any ideas where we might find her?"

"None for certain," Leon said impassively, "But this was a military coup, and you know how things like that usually work. I doubt the new regime is letting freelance journalists run around loose. They'll try to suppress all but the state-sponsored media. She's likely to be in hiding just like Falco and Slippy."

"Then how do we find her?" Panther sighed, completely dry of ideas, "We're right back where we started. I wouldn't even know where to look."

"She'll go where she's most likely to find support," Leon continued, "She'll look for an organized resistance movement – or she'll try and start one herself. In either case, an underground in this type of situation is going to form in the lower-class sections of the city, where the change in government is most needed. We won't find her or Falco here. I think we should head for the space port district."

Panther grunted dispassionately as he nudged the accelerator. There were days when he wondered how Wolf had come to associate with Leon. Panther didn't particularly _dislike_ Leon, but he wished Leon would occasionally show some spark of personality. Leon was always cold and detached; he never showed any remorse over a kill, but he certainly took no joy, either. He had done many things while running with the Star Wolf team, as Panther well knew, and many of those things had been quite distasteful, but he was always devoid of any emotion – whether on a mission or not. Panther wondered what sort of history Leon had with Falco Lombardi; the closest Leon ever came to revealing any sort of emotional feeling was with matters concerning Falco, and Panther had a difficult time telling whether that feeling was one of respect or envy. Falco was a superb pilot who had outfought Leon on more than one occasion. Panther entertained numerous possibilities, but each was as unlikely as the rest. As they approached the eastern waterfront, Panther dismissed his wonderings as unimportant and distracting.

As they reached the Space Port District, Panther began to think that Leon's idea might indeed be about to yield results. Civil Guard squad cars were everywhere – more than elsewhere in the city. The docks were also being watched by Cornerian Army soldiers and Coast Guard patrol boats. There had definitely been _some_ sort of incident here. Now Panther was glad he had stolen an officer's uniform; he could ask some of the enlisted soldiers about the situation and possibly find some leads. He wasn't worried about anyone recognizing him; they were all too busy finding out what happened to drop everything and search for a months-old "wanted" bulletin on a hunch. Panther pulled closer to the dock, slowed, and finally stopped. Though he wasn't _too_ concerned about being recognized, he left the engine running.

"Wait here," he said to Leon as he climbed out of the vehicle, "I'm going to try and find out what's going on here." Leon nodded and slid over to the driver's side, preparing for the possible necessity of a quick getaway.

Panther slowly walked towards the dock, inconspicuously checking to make sure the holster of his sidearm was unsnapped. The sergeant standing on the dock walked over to meet him and saluted him. Panther returned the salute as deftly as he could; it was a bit sloppy, but the sergeant either didn't notice or didn't care. "Sergeant," Panther said confidently, "I'm here from Army Headquarters. We received a report of an incident here; I'm just here to ask a few questions. Can you tell me what happened?"

"Yes, Colonel," he answered militarily, "The Civil Guard reported a sighting of two wanted individuals. They gave chase, but the two dissidents escaped the scene in some sort of small watercraft. After that, sir, I'm afraid I don't know much."

"Sergeant, have these two individuals been positively identified?" Panther asked.

"No, sir," the sergeant shook his head, "But the vehicle was identified as one of the combat vehicles of the Star Fox team, so the Civil Guard suspects that it was the two missing members they were trying to catch up with."

"Thank you, sergeant," Panther said. The information the sergeant had given him was sufficient. Not wishing to press his luck, Panther didn't talk to anyone else. To avoid suspicion, however, he did not go straight back to the APC; he walked about the area for a few paces as if briefly investigating the scene. When he did leave, he went in an opposite direction. He came back to Leon and the commandeered vehicle by a roundabout way. Leon waited; the two of them had been through this routine more than a few times. "We've got to get back to the fighters," Panther told Leon, "I think we've found them – or if we haven't, we soon will."

_Sargasso Space Station – Area Three, Meteo Asteroid Belt – Two hours later (1956 hours CCT)_

Fox awoke with a start when he heard the Sargasso communication array beep for attention. He turned his head back and forth, quickly scanning the room for Wolf. Wolf wasn't present, so Fox rolled his chair over to Wolf's station and pressed the button to answer the beep. Panther's face appeared on the screen in front of them.

"Panther?" Fox said. He looked down at his watch and then asked, "You're checking in a little early, aren't you? Did you find something?"

"I would say so, Fox," Panther smiled, "Where is Wolf?"

"Dunno," Fox answered, "He was playing cards with Krystal last I saw him. We're getting pretty bored up here waiting for you. Did you find them?"

"I think so, Fox," Panther replied. His image faded in a bit with the static, then reappeared, "We were down on the docks, and the Army said two fugitives had escaped in a watercraft that they identified as one of yours."

"The _Blue Marine_," Fox grinned from ear to ear, "Some good news at last. I should have known Falco would remember it. I can't believe that thing still works. Have you caught up with them yet?"

"Not yet," Panther admitted, "Their transponder is either turned off or broken. I can understand that. Those two have managed to stir up half the Cornerian Army and almost every Civil Guard on the planet. The Army told me they sank a Coast Guard patrol boat as soon as they cleared the harbor."

"Wait, wait," Fox slowed him down, "The Army _told_ you? Why would the Army tell you anything? I'd think they'd be trying to get their hands on you as much as on Falco and Slippy."

"I was in disguise," Panther answered, putting the colonel's hat back on. "It looks dreadful on me, no?" he smirked, "And it's not very warm, besides. Although I'm sure it's warmer than the dumb colonel I lifted it from," he snickered, "He'll be a bit chilly when he wakes up."

"Uh-huh," Fox said seriously, suppressing his impatience, "But do you think you can contact them?"

"Not with this equipment," Panther answered, "This is an APC that we… appropriated… from the base on the other side of the city. We're going to try scanning the emergency bandwidths once we get back to the fighters, but we just have to wait until then." Fox sighed and gave Panther a downcast glance. "Hey, look on the bright side, _hermano_," Panther went on, "At least now we know where to look."

"Right," Fox said, "Thanks, Panther. Let me know as soon as you find something."

"Will do," Panther replied with a dry smile, "Panther out."

Panther's image faded from the screen, and Fox went back to monitoring his station. He felt so useless just sitting there waiting for news. His search through the Army's files had gained them valuable information which they would put to use, but nowhere could Fox find anything disclosing Peppy's location. No matter how much he searched, an answer eluded him. He wanted to believe that everything would turn out right, as it always had in the past, but this was more than he'd ever had to face. He was thankful that Krystal had been with him when they were betrayed; he knew he couldn't have faced this without her. Even with Krystal, however, Fox felt more alone than ever. In the scrapes he'd had in the past, his teammates were always there to help him through it. This time, it was up to him and Krystal to get everyone out, and that required him to work side-by-side with a former rival he didn't even fully trust.

Fox was very glad to get word of Falco and Slippy. Unfortunately, he couldn't shake a foreboding apprehension about Peppy. He knew that his old mentor wouldn't just miraculously appear in an escape pod this time. Peppy was in real trouble this time, and there was nothing Fox could do to help him. What hurt Fox the most was the fact that Peppy's sense of commitment and duty had at least indirectly led to his capture – duty to Corneria and Lylat in general, and commitment to General Pepper in particular. Fox still couldn't fully believe General Pepper's hand had been in this betrayal, and he desperately wanted to believe that Beltino was still helping them. Beltino wouldn't have overlooked something as big as an open back door on his network; if Fox could get in that way, it was because Beltino meant for it to be that way. Whether that was because Beltino was helping them or trying to trap them, Fox couldn't say.

Fox gnawed irritably at a hangnail. The waiting was agony. If he could just do _something_… Fox began searching the Lylatian headlines for any news. He had tried all of the military files; perhaps there would be a lead in the new state-controlled media. The new administration would want to brag about the capture of someone as connected as Peppy Hare. _Too bad Katt isn't with the press anymore_, Fox thought glumly, _She'd know exactly how to find Falco._ Then he saw the flag. A picture appeared on his screen – a picture of the Cornerian Parliament building. The flag of the new regime rose up the mast in front of the building. The name and symbol of the new regime was forever seared into Fox's mind: a field of red, and a golden "L" with a single white star emblazoned on the canton. Beneath it in black, the words "Democratic Republic of Lylat" appeared on the screen. Fox let his rage and hate burn within him. Fox stayed silent, but his eyes became smoldering embers as he watched the white and blue flag of Corneria burn. In that moment, Fox McCloud took a vow, and the nation he had once revered and served – the nation his father had died to protect – became his sworn enemy.


	13. Chapter 13

Star Fox: Regime – a fan fiction by Wolf Reynolds  
"Star Fox" and all related characters and trademarks are © Nintendo, Inc.  
Story ©2009 Wolf Reynolds

CHAPTER 13

_Borealic Ocean, Planet Corneria – 58°32'21'' N, 23°14'59'' E – 1121 hours CCT_

Falco took off the headphones he was wearing and set them unceremoniously on the center console. He let a mighty yawn as he propped his feet on the main dashboard and crossed his arms behind his head. Slippy just sat in his seat, somewhere on the edge of consciousness. Falco couldn't blame him for being a little dozy; neither of them had slept since their escape from the city two days ago, and the carbon dioxide levels in the cabin made it stuffy enough to make anyone want to nod off for a bit. It was cold, too – Slippy would be fighting his own circulatory system to stay awake. Falco knew they would have to surface soon and ventilate with actual air. He also knew that the Army's satellites would spot them the moment they did, and they'd be on the run again. The last time they had used the _Blue Marine_, it was still in good enough condition to stay submerged for weeks or even months at a time, but now the noisy hum of the filtration system was testament to the fact that the submersible had been too long neglected for Falco to expect all of its systems to still be in perfect working order.

"Still with me, Slip?" Falco asked. He still needed Slippy awake for the moment.

Slippy yawned. "Yeah," he answered, "I'm trying. It's freezing in here."

"I know," Falco said sympathetically, "I don't want too much warm air yet, though. We need to give off as little of a heat signature as possible."

"What are we going to do?" Slippy asked, "We can't stay down here forever."

"I know," Falco replied, "But I have an idea. We're within a few degrees of the Arctic Circle. That means it won't be too much further before we're out of range of their surface radar."

"What good does that do us?" Slippy asked, "They already know where we're going."

"They know our direction," Falco corrected, "After that, all they have is guesswork. Once we reach the ice cap, we can blast our way into the ice and carve a pocket. We'll be insulated in there, and all of their heat-seeker scans will be reflected back by the ice."

"What then?" Slippy asked. Falco didn't answer right away; he could see Slippy was trying to figure out the plan for himself. "That's near the fishing grounds, so food won't be a problem," Slippy said half to himself, "And we can melt ice for water. But we still can't just stay there until the end of time."

"No," Falco agreed, "But we can listen for developments and possibly even wait for help."

"Not to sound overly pessimistic, Falco," Slippy said, "But you're assuming that there's someone looking for us who's not after our hides. They grabbed Peppy, and Fox and Krystal are dead."

"True," Falco admitted, "But even if no one is out there to help, there is Kolsok Station."

"I don't know, Falco," Slippy answered skeptically, "My dad told me all about Kolsok Station; he was there once. He says it's been abandoned since before I was born. Once they see us going north, they'll know that's where we're heading."

"But it's more defensible than this bucket of bolts," Falco pressed, tapping the wall with his fist for emphasis, "Besides, you got any better ideas?"

"I suppose not," Slippy admitted reluctantly.

"Remember when you told me you wished you could have had all those adventures like I've had?"

"Yeah," Slippy nodded.

"Well, we're neck-deep in one now," Falco chuckled mirthlessly, "It's not all it's cracked up to be, is it?" Slippy gave an ambiguous mumble. "Why don't we go up for some air?" Falco said as he took his feet down and sat up from his relaxed posture. Slippy suppressed a yawn and began to make the necessary control surface adjustments. There was a creaking noise as the diving planes turned into position, and the darkness of the deep, open waters began to fade. Falco watched as beams of sunlight grew brighter. The _Blue Marine_ continued its ascent and finally broke the surface. Falco sighed regretfully at the clear, open sky. He missed his Arwing; more than that, he missed flying in formation with his comrades – his loyal family. That was all gone now. All gone and finished. His family was gone, and he was running for his life. Corneria murdered Fox McCloud, and Falco Lombardi would destroy them for that or die trying. Squinting from the brightness of the midmorning sun, Falco examined the craft's surroundings. The first thing he noticed was the series of bluish formations on the far horizon. No ship was that large, and the charts showed no landmass anywhere in front of them, so Falco surmised that they had to be icebergs. They were far enough north, and it was certainly cold enough. Falco looked at the external temperature gauge – minus-ten centigrade. _Too cold_. Falco thought. _Well, hang it all, this is a balmy spring day compared to Fichina_. Falco got up from his seat, grabbed a blanket, and wrapped it around Slippy's shoulders. "Better bundle up," he said, "I need you awake. When they spot us, we'll have to get out of here quickly."

As Falco opened the top hatch, a rush of cold air immediately hit him, jolting him wider awake. He didn't fight it as he would have once – he embraced the chill and frigid air, breathing deeply and letting it frost his lungs. That was how Falco had learned to cope; when pain battered his body, he battered right back, daring nature to do its worst. The two of them climbed out of the hatch and stood on the ice-encrusted metal of the hull. Slippy crossed his arms in a futile attempt to keep warm. "How can you stand it, Falco?" he chattered, "Nothing fazes you. Aren't you cold?"

Falco answered with a humorless smile. "Better get used to it, pal," he said, "It only gets colder from here. I'd give anything for a few coats right now. Shame there weren't any with the supplies." Falco sighed, his breath steaming into the cold air. "No use wishing for what's not there." Falco tensed at a distant buzzing noise.

Slippy heard it, too. "What's that?" he asked.

"A Coast Guard speedboat. Sounds like our own little ray of sunshine," Falco muttered, "And I bet he's got a few friends." Falco climbed back down the ladder and sat back in the left seat. Slippy closed the hatch and quickly took the controls again. "Let's get the lead out, Slip," Falco said, "What's the depth here?"

Slippy checked one of the gauges on the panel. "About thirteen-hundred meters," he answered.

"Let's bottom the boat for now," Falco said. Slippy was already following Falco's line of thought; the craft began to descend at what Falco thought was a decidedly expeditious rate.

"Should I bring us around to attack position?" Slippy asked.

"Not yet," Falco answered, "Let's just see what they do. I doubt they can scan that deep. I'd prefer to avoid a brawl if we can help it; we don't want to draw attention to ourselves." Slippy nodded and kept a careful eye on the array of depth gauges, sonar readings, and other measurements as the _Blue Marine_ continued her descent into the blackness of the watery abyss. "Hit the lights, Slippy," Falco instructed. The water lit up in front of them, but there was nothing there but falling motes of salt and other impurities. No plankton lived this deep, and the waters this far north were too cold for any other life except what lived near hydrothermal vents. Slippy gently brought the submersible to rest on the sandy ocean floor. "Any subsurface contacts, Slippy?" Falco asked worriedly, "Or are those speedboats all there is?"

Slippy watched the radar and sonar plots in front of him until the scanning equipment had made a complete rotation. "No, no subs," he answered, giving a sigh of relief, "Just the speedboats and one patrol boat. A few choppers, too. I think we lost them."

"I guess they knew we'd be able to outrun any of their submarines," Falco got up and stretched.

Slippy watched the plots for a few more moments and said, "Yeah, they're bugging out. I guess they don't have the sensors to scan this deep."

"Hey, listen," Falco said, "I think we'll just chill here for a bit. I'll keep an eye on things if you want to sack out."

Slippy rubbed his eyes. "When you say 'chill', you're not kidding. I'm not sure that's a good idea," he yawned, "You might not be able to wake me back up."

"Go on," said Falco, "I'll give it a few more minutes and then turn the engine back on. I'm no expert at steering this thing, but I think I can keep us on course easily enough. Besides, we'll both need to be well rested when we reach the ice cap, and you most of all."

Slippy finally consented. Falco wasn't surprised; despite Slippy's protests, he was so cold and tired he could barely keep his eyes open. Within just a few moments, Falco's loyal comrade was fast asleep, leaving him alone in the gloomy depths.

_Borealic Ocean, Planet Corneria – 59°12'14'' N, 23°15'29'' E – 1336 hours CCT_

The mid-afternoon sunlight glinted off the reflective canopy of Panther's fighter as the craft raced over the northern sea; the red rose painted on the side of the fuselage reflected off of the water a few meters below. Leon kept his _Wolfen_ on Panther's starboard wing, the both of them being very cautious to stay beneath the Defense Force radar. Panther kept both eyes wide open as he visually scanned the ocean's surface for signs of the _Blue Marine_. He and Leon had been monitoring communications from the Coast Guard and had flown towards the general search area, but prudence only allowed them to get so close before they became targets themselves. Panther caught the briefest glimpse of the submersible before it vanished beneath the waves, but the _Blue Marine_ did not appear on any of their scans, and all of their hails had gone unanswered. _He's good_, Panther thought of Falco with a smile, _He's __very__ good. I'd hate to be the hunted when he decides to become the hunter._ It was not a comforting thought. Panther had been on the receiving end of the Star Fox team's hostility, and he didn't relish the encounter. "This is no good, Leon," he said into his microphone, "We'll never find them like this. They must've gone deep. If only we had some way to track them, we might be able to figure out where they're going."

"Well, 'if only' never accomplishes much," Leon replied.

"Neither does quoting useless platitudes," Panther muttered to himself under his breath. Into his link, he said, "See anywhere we can put down?"

"Not unless you want to land on one of those icebergs," Leon answered, "And that would be a tricky landing. The Kolsok Ice Sheet is about five hundred kilometers north of here. I suggest we land on the ice and pick up our search in the morning. The Ice Sheet is most likely where they're headed, anyway. The satellite scans won't be able to see them there."

As much as Panther hated giving up, he knew that trying to find Falco would be futile now. "All right," Panther finally said, "I suppose that's as good a plan as any." The Kolsok Ice Shelf was Falco's best chance. Panther knew that – he only hoped the Cornerian Army didn't know it, too. Then again, Falco had already proven intelligent enough (and certainly unpredictable enough) to avoid most of the Army's traps. "Keep sending hails on the emergency channels," Panther added after a few moments, "Just in case."

"Already doing it," Leon answered.

Panther sighed as he turned his head into the Cornerian sunset. He thought ruefully of the long, cold night that lay ahead. The Star Wolf fighters always held provisions for minor excursions, but Panther knew those supplies wouldn't last more than a few days. After that, they would have no choice but to leave the search area and find somewhere to resupply – and leaving the search area meant certain failure. On top of that, the temperature was dropping rapidly and would continue to do so as the sun continued to set. The machines had been winterized, so Panther had no misgivings about spending the night down on the ice, but it wasn't going to be very comfortable. Panther could handle all of that, but he wished he had a traveling companion who wasn't quite so dull. Panther was originally happy to be getting out and doing grunt work – Wolf and Fox were stuck at Sargasso Station doing nothing but sitting around, playing cards, and listening to the odd news broadcast or report from Panther himself. Somehow, though, Leon managed to make Wolf's listening outpost seem like the liveliest station in the entire Lylat System. "All right," Panther said with a sigh, "We'll head to Kolsok and put down for the night. What's the bearing for Kolsok Station?"

"Three-five-seven," Leon replied.

"Set course three-five-seven," Panther instructed, turning his ship away from the sun and towards the icy northern horizon as he throttled up, "I'll take the point."

Panther turned his head to look towards his starboard wing and saw Leon's craft edging towards him. Leon's voice came over Panther's speakers as he closed the formation. "I'll follow you," Leon said. Panther cut off his microphone and huffed. He was tired and frustrated; he and Leon knew what they were looking for now, but in many ways, they were no closer to finding Falco Lombardi than when they started. The time had come for Panther to contact Wolf and Fox at Sargasso, and he doubted the check-in was going to be particularly happy. Wolf wouldn't be pleased with another report of failure, but oddly enough, Panther felt bad about delivering a downbeat report to Fox. He wasn't sure what Wolf's ulterior motives were, but in an odd sort of way, he himself had almost come to accept Fox as a part of the team. Fox _was _a part of the team; all of them were a team that was neither fully Star Fox nor Star Wolf. The recent chain of events had forged them all into a strong team – the unlikeliest of teams, to be sure, but nevertheless a team. Panther smiled as the thought crossed his mind that he would almost rather have had Fox with him than Leon.

Panther turned his microphone back on and activated his long-range communicator. Fox's hologram appeared in front of him. "Tell me you have good news, Panther," Fox said hopefully.

"I wish I did, _hermano_," Panther answered regretfully, "There were a bunch of Coast Guard flunkies looking for them right around here. They didn't find anything, and they bugged out when they heard us coming. We've been looking for hours, but Falco's doing too good of a job outwitting the DF, it seems."

Wolf's face appeared next to the hologram of Fox. "What are you doing right now, Panther?" Wolf asked.

"We're out of daylight and there's no sign of a heat signature. We'll have to give up for the night," Panther said, "We're headed north now, towards the Kolsok Shelf. Leon's hailing all of the emergency frequencies, but we're going to have to put down somewhere before long."

"Falco's probably headed towards Kolsok Station, anyway," Fox muttered, almost to himself, "We've used it before."

"That's sort of what we figured," Panther said, "I just hope the Army hasn't figured that out. We're going to go check it out and make sure they're not running into a trap. Even if we stop for the night, I doubt Falco can get there before we do. I'll keep you posted, Fox."

"Yes, do that," Fox said, "Sleep well out there." Panther rubbed his eyes as the two holograms vanished. He cut off his microphone again and turned on his instrument panel lights as the last glimmers of the sun faded below the horizon. _We can't go on like this forever,_ he thought with a sigh, _Where are you, Falco?_

_Corneria Central Defense Force Base – Command Information Center (2120 hours, CCT)_

Bill Grey stood by the window of the CIC, feeling totally alone, though there were about a dozen other officers and soldiers in the room with him. He had just come from the briefing room and would be embarking on a new mission soon. In the briefing, he had finally achieved what he had been working for years to accomplish; he had gone into the briefing as a captain, and he had come out as an admiral. For Bill, the promotion was an empty victory. This new mission would test his loyalty to the Lylatian Government to the fullest. He looked down at the paper in his hands and read the order again.

"_When determined to be in operational readiness by the Chief of Staff,_" the note read, "_The Internal Security Task Force of the People's Armada, under the command of Rear Admiral (Lower Echelon) William Grey, shall depart from Planet Corneria and conduct a series of searches in the surrounding sectors for individuals and organizations listed as Subversive and Dissident, as well as all individuals and organizations engaged in mercenary ventures as determined by national law. The said Task Force shall then neutralize all such individuals and organizations, preferably by means of capture, but using lethal force if necessary. The directive of the Chief of Staff authorizes the Task Force to engage at the discretion of the task force commander (Adm. Grey). Failure to comply with the directive by harboring dissidents or ignorance by design (either on the part of any member of the Task Force or by the task force commander's refusal to engage) will constitute an act of treason against the Democratic Republic of Lylat and will be treated as an offense sufficient to convene a court-martial._"

Looking at the orders, Bill already felt like a traitor. _Subversive and dissident_ – that was the label they had applied to Fox before he had died on the _Cloudrunner_. Bill was beginning to wonder if the explosion of the liner was as purely accidental as the reports had stated. Either way, he felt defeated and damned. Star Fox had fallen completely apart; Fox and Krystal were dead, Peppy Hare was in custody, and Slippy and Falco were most likely dead or soon to be captured. Now Bill was beginning to wonder how many of the Republic's "political subversives" were like Fox. Bill used to be passionate about destroying Lylat's enemies; now he knew he would feel remorse and wonder how many of them truly _were _enemies. On the other hand, he had no choice but to engage these enemies; Bill had taken an oath when he first joined the military that he would serve and obey the orders of his government – a government which ruled by the will of the people. Bill always kept his word; he would do what was necessary, but he was beginning to question what offenses he could forgive himself.


	14. Chapter 14

Star Fox: Regime – a fan fiction by Wolf Reynolds  
"Star Fox" and all related characters and trademarks are © Nintendo, Inc.  
Story ©2010 Wolf Reynolds

CHAPTER 14

_Corneria Central Defense Force Base – Detention Unit (0204 hours CCT)_

Peppy Hare tossed and turned in his fitful sleep. For the first time since his capture three days earlier, he had finally been released from the ceaseless stream of interrogations. The bed was nothing but a hard metal slab with neither mattress nor pillow, but three days subjected to constant third-degree questioning had pushed Peppy to complete physical and emotional exhaustion. He had outwitted his tormentors by learning to laugh at the irony of all the pain. They would get nothing from him because they now believed that they had completely broken his sanity – reduced him to an inane, giggling bundle of nerves. Either way, the irony was enough to make a stone howl in laughter; he had done his duty all his life, first to General Pepper and the Army, and then to the McClouds, and now he was to end his days under the torments of those he had devoted his life to protecting; if they couldn't break his will, they had no use for him and would therefore destroy him.

He bolted upright with a grunt when he heard the click of the door latch opening; he steeled himself against what he knew was to come. Peppy waited for the interrogators to come in with further persecution, but the door opened to admit Beltino Toad, Slippy's father. Peppy looked around suspiciously for a few panicked moments, then noticed that no guards followed the Cornerian Research Director. A fleeting hope of rescue entered Peppy's mind, but he wasn't sure he dared hope for anything anymore. Was Beltino going to help him out of this scrape, or was he to be a lab rat for R&D's possibly-cruel whims?

"Come with me," was all Beltino said, and in a tone that brokered no comment from Peppy. He led Peppy through the corridors towards a service elevator which would take them back up to the surface – Peppy knew this because he had been brought down here by the same elevator. Two guards were posted by the elevator door, but they made no effort to stop Beltino or Peppy. _They know about this, then, _Peppy thought miserably, _Then this is no rescue, after all._ He was proven wrong, however, once the elevator door closed behind them. Peppy started to speak, but Beltino gave him no opportunity. "Listen, Peppy," said the research director, "You have no time to waste, so don't interrupt, yes? If they find out about this, everything could be for naught. I'm not rescuing you – as far as anyone knows, I'm a loyal citizen and a scientist for the Republic Army. No, you're not being rescued; you're going to escape."

"I don't understand," Peppy shook his head, "All the others are dead. They'll just gun me down as soon as I set out – and I have nowhere to go, at any rate."

"I told you," Beltino broke in, "Don't interrupt. There's no time. The Army knows it won't get anything out of you now; their next move is to use you as bait to get at the others."

"But the others are dead."

"No, they're not," Beltino said, "At least, not all of them. I don't know which ones survived, but someone from Star Fox is still out there, and I'm willing to bet more than one. The Coast Guard has been going crazy looking for the _Blue Marine_ – someone from your team found it, but they don't know who. Aside from that, someone has used my back door protocols to gain access to my files – the only one who knows the procedure is my son, but he probably shared it with McCloud."

_Fox!_ Peppy's thoughts were wild hopes for a moment, _No. No – Fox is dead, just face up to it. _The elevator door opened, and Peppy and Beltino stepped out into an abandoned hangar full of scrapped fighters – and one Arwing which looked curiously intact. "Now listen," Beltino went on, "There are no guards in here because as far as anyone knows, there's nothing in here but useless junk. I moved that Arwing here from my lab piece by piece – that's why it's taken me three days, and I'm sorry for that. It works, though, so you'll be able to get out of here quickly. In a few minutes, there will be an explosion in the lower cell bay; everyone will think that someone on the outside came in and got you out. Remember, you can't tell _anyone_ that I helped you. At the moment, you can't even contact me. If you try, I won't have any choice but to send troops; my communications are all being closely monitored because of my connections with Star Fox." Beltino pushed Peppy towards the Arwing.

"But what about General Pepper?" Peppy said, "He's always depended on us and trusted us. Why did he suddenly–?"

"There's no time!" Beltino said as the explosion in the cell bay shook the ground. He yelled over the noise of the Arwing's engine starting, "I have to get out of here or they'll spot me. The _Blue Marine _was headed north towards Kolsok Ice Shelf, and the Coast Guard thinks that members of Star Wolf might have headed that way, too. Get out of here and fly towards the abandoned research station. You might be able to meet up with some help there."

"And I might be flying into a death trap!" Peppy shouted back, "How do I know this isn't just a scheme to get me out of the way?"

"You just have to trust me!" Beltino said as alarms started blaring, "You've got food and clothing in the cargo hold to last four days. I have to go!"

"I'll have half the Army on my tail as soon as I bust out of here!" Peppy called as his craft slowly rose with the power of the G-diffuser, "What do I do when they start shooting at me?"

"Do a barrel roll!" Beltino called back with a smile, then ran.

Peppy closed his canopy as Beltino ran off. _I'm getting too old for this_, he thought as he brought his laser cannons online – ready to fire at his fellow Cornerians. Then he remembered the last three days spent in the interrogation rooms facing questioning tactics that would never have been permitted by the Corneria that he knew and loved. _It does beat the alternative_, he reminded himself, _This way I might actually be able to be of some use. Especially if Fox might still be… Oh, Fox, please be alive. _Peppy blasted through the wall of the hangar and thrust off into the night. The dim, dying ember of hope that had been smoldering in him suddenly surged into flame. He had been ready to die in there, knowing that he had been faithful to Fox up until the end. He had been ready to die, waiting to die, and under those conditions, perhaps even secretly _hoping_ to die. No more – not as long as there was even the slightest chance that Fox was still alive. _Fox, please be alive_. Now that he had something to live for, he was going to live the way he had lived his entire life. He was going to do what he had done ever since he was old enough to understand: his duty.

_Kolsok Ice Shelf, near Cornerian Army Listening Post #221, Planet Corneria (0713 hours CCT)_

The silence of the snow-muted Kolsok Ice Shelf was suddenly broken by the sound of ice shattering. Bolts of green energy smashed through to the surface of the mile-thick sheet of ice, shooting up steam from ice and water vaporized by the blasts. Water that had until recently been trapped beneath the shelf began to bubble through the new hole in the ice, frothing from the pressure and the heat of the laser beams. A few moments later, the telltale blue rudder fin of the _Blue Marine_ broke the surface, and the rest of the submersible followed shortly thereafter.

Falco Lombardi emerged through the top hatch and surveyed the surroundings through a pair of binoculars. He sighed, creating a small cloud of vapor in the chilly air. Taking great care not to slip on the icy hull, Falco climbed out of the hatch and stood on the top of the sub. Slippy followed him through the hatch, trying to keep himself warm by wrapping his arms around himself and patting himself. The dawn was only beginning to light up the eastern sky, but Falco was searching diligently for signs of the Cornerian Army, knowing that the enemy would be unlikely to wait for sunrise in their search efforts. He looked westward through the binoculars, towards the abandoned listening station. He couldn't see any lights burning at the station, so the Army either wasn't there or they were taking great care not to alert anyone to their presence. Falco became certain that the Army did not occupy the station as he turned the focus ring on his binoculars to bring another indeterminate object into sharp focus. He identified it immediately with a bit of a shock. _Wolfens! What're __they__ doing here?_

Apparently Slippy had noticed his surprise. "What is it, Falco?" he asked, "Are there soldiers there?"

"No," Falco replied, "It's Star Wolf."

"Star Wolf? Are you sure?" Slippy asked as Falco climbed back down into the submarine. Slippy glanced around and saw Falco gone, and he quickly scrambled down the hatch after him, closing the hatch behind him. "The Wolfens aren't the only TF-38s out there, Falco," Slippy said as Falco went towards the _Blue Marine_'s control deck. "Those could belong to the Army, for all you know. Are you even listening to me?"

"One of them had a red rose painted on the side," Falco said as he sat down, all thoughts about the cold completely gone. Slippy gave a half-comprehending look. "Caroso," Falco said with a nod, "Turn on the transponder."

"What?" Slippy asked incredulously, "Aren't you jumping the gun just a bit, Falco? How do you know they'd be on our side? How do you know they're not working for the Army?"

"You know as well as I do that their names were on the subversives list. Chances are that they're in the same spot as we are," Falco said, "They beat us to Kolsok Station. We've run out of food and options. If they don't help us, we'll go down fighting. Now turn on the transponder!" Slippy reluctantly threw a switch on the center console, which caused the green readouts of the radio stack to light up. "Open the channel to all emergency frequencies," Falco ordered.

"You know this will bring the entire Army down on us," Slippy warned, "You _know_ that. They'll launch a missile and we won't even see it!"

"No they won't! Do it!" Falco snapped. Slippy nodded and turned the radio on. Falco cautiously spoke into the microphone of his headset. "This is Falco Lombardi on emergency channel requesting assistance," he said, "Anyone listening, please come in." Silence. "Anyone within the sound of my voice, please come in." Still nothing. "Come in, please," Falco said with increasing desperation, "Someone – please come in." Falco tried again after a few more seconds, "Come on, Panther, I know you can hear me!"

"Falco Lombardi, you scoundrel," Panther's familiar accent came over the radio, "Where have you been? Leon was betting we'd never find you."

"And you wouldn't have if we weren't out of food," Falco answered cynically.

"After the last three days, I'm hardly in a position to disagree," Panther chuckled.

"So what now?" Falco asked, "Are you here to help us, or are you going to start shooting?"

"Well, Leon would _certainly_ prefer the latter," Panther said, "I have mixed feelings, myself. Unfortunately, we have orders to bring you back in one piece."

"Back where?" Falco asked, "And orders from who?"

"Heh heh heh," Panther began laughing again, "Can't tell you where; this channel's probably being monitored. Suffice it to say that we're taking you to someone who'll be _quite _happy to see you alive and well. Is that good enough for you, amigo?"

"Nah, not even close," Falco snorted, "But considering the alternative, it'll have to do. We're about two kilometers east of your position."

"We're on our way," Panther said, "Caroso out."

Falco began to flip switches, shutting the submarine down one switch at a time. As the whine of the idling engines reduced slowly to silence, the dim control lights faded slowly, leaving only an eerie glow from the floor running lights. Falco grabbed two blaster rifles and tossed one to Slippy, then opened the top hatch.

"What are you doing?" Slippy asked, "We can't just leave the sub like this. We don't have the remote access device. If you submerge it here, we'll never get it out again."

"I'm not submerging her," Falco said irritably, "Now come on. There's no time. The Coast Guard probably launched a cruise missile the moment we turned that radio on."

"But you said…" Slippy started. Falco grabbed his collar and practically threw him scrabbling up the hatch. Falco followed him as fast as possible, then urged him onward.

"I lied!" Falco said, "Jump!" The two of them jumped from the top of the sub down onto the ice. "Don't stop! Keep running!" Falco pushed, "Keep going! We're standing in a future hole in the ice!" They ran as fast as they could run; Falco didn't think he had ever seen Slippy run so fast. _I don't think I've run like this since that time those eight MPs were on my six… _Falco thought, panting hard. They had run about a hundred meters when Falco's guess was confirmed by a trail of missile smoke streaking overhead. Out of breath, he turned around just in time to see the missile detonate, scattering fragments of the _Blue Marine_ in every direction. He sighed as the smoke from the missile dissipated, revealing a hole which contained bits of floating wreckage from the sub – though there wasn't very much of it left. "Sorry about that," he said somberly to the air, "You saved our lives; you deserved better." He turned his head and readied his rifle as he heard the whine of approaching fighters. When he saw that the approaching aircraft were the Star Wolf fighters, he lowered his weapon. Falco noted with great interest that there were only two of them; O'Donnell apparently wasn't with them. Falco wasn't quite sure what was behind all of this, but whatever Star Wolf's purposes were, Falco was fairly certain that he and Slippy were finished running from the Cornerian Army, one way or another.

_Cornerian Army Listening Post #221 – Kolsok Ice Shelf, Planet Corneria (17 minutes later)_

_They don't trust us_, Panther thought, noticing Falco's tight grip on his blaster rifle as the four of them entered the abandoned listening post. _I guess that's only natural. _Slippy didn't look very relaxed, either. Panther could understand why they were on edge, but at least they weren't running around in the subzero temperatures anymore. The inside of the station was nice and warm, which prompted Falco to further caution.

"It's awfully warm in here," he said, "Shouldn't you be trying to disguise your heat signature a little?"

"What's the use?" Panther replied logically, "They already know we're here. If it comes to a fight, I'd rather not be freezing and fighting at the same time. Besides, we're out of range of their satellites."

"All right," Falco nodded, apparently accepting Panther's answer. _Wow, he's cautious, _Panther thought, suddenly humbled, _And thorough. No wonder we couldn't find him. _"Now what's this all about, Caroso?" Falco asked irritably.

"My, my – aren't _you_ the touchy one," Panther said good-naturedly, "Is that any way to treat your rescuers?"

"I've just had several of the worst days of my life," Falco grunted, "And whether or not you have any interest in rescuing us remains to be seen. I'm not in the mood for games right now, got it?"

"Take it easy, Falco," Leon said from the background.

"You have nothing to worry about," Panther agreed, "We're all as deep in this mess as you are, so we're going to get you out."

"Can I then assume that Wolf is elsewhere waiting for you?" Falco asked.

"Of course," Panther said, "You didn't think we'd try something this crazy without a plan, did you?"

"So you're getting us out of here," Falco said, "Then what?"

"Don't be so paranoid, Falco," Leon said, "This is only the beginning. We have much grander plans in mind – plans that will make us all rich, famous, or both."

Panther noticed Slippy yawn. In the week since the coup, Panther doubted Slippy and Falco had had much sleep. "There are a couple of cots over there," Panther said, "We can't leave for at least a few hours, so if you two want to sack out, now's your chance."

"The entire Army's going to be here any second," Falco answered, "We can sleep on the way to… where did you say we were going, again?"

"Hehe," Panther replied, "I didn't. No matter – we're eventually returning to Sargasso, but as I said, we won't be able to leave for awhile yet."

"Why not?" Falco asked.

Panther gestured outside towards their fighters. "We've run these things all over creation for the last two days trying to find you. They really weren't designed for long periods of tropospheric flight; they're space fighters. The plasma relays to Leon's engine were completely overheated, and mine weren't far behind. They need about a day to cool; we'll never break out of orbit otherwise."

"But what about the Army?" Slippy asked before Falco even had a chance.

"You didn't think we'd come in here unarmed, did you?" Leon said with a chuckle.

"We brought some pretty heavy ordnances with us," Panther continued, looking at Falco as he spoke, "We've been here all night – long enough to set up a few nasty little surprises in a few of those snowdrifts. There are about three lines of claymores and one line of rocket mines, all set on proximity fuses. We booby-trapped the whole area. They probably think you're dead anyway, with that little missile stunt out there."

Panther noticed Falco begin to argue further, but Slippy had already gone over to the corner and curled up on one of the cots. Falco glanced in the same direction and finally gave up. _I can't blame him for being suspicious_, Panther thought to himself, _They've both had a pretty rough time of it, and __I'm__ not even sure Wolf is on the level on this one._


	15. Chapter 15

Star Fox: Regime – a fan fiction by Wolf Reynolds  
"Star Fox" and all related characters and trademarks are © Nintendo, Inc.  
Story ©2010 Wolf Reynolds

CHAPTER 15

_Sargasso Space Station – Area Three, Meteo Asteroid Belt (1132 hours CCT)_

Fox rubbed irritably at his sleep-blurry eyes. This was going to be a long day. He was still running low on energy, only able to sleep a few hours each night and catch short catnaps here and there. His exhaustion was not what would make the day long, though; Panther had called a few hours ago. They had found Falco and Slippy, and both were alive and well. That, in itself, was enough to make Fox ecstatic. Unfortunately, the getaway of his two team members had cost them the _Blue Marine_, and the Star Wolf fighters had become severely overheated by Corneria's atmospheric friction. The Army knew where Falco and the others were, and despite the precautionary measures Panther had described, Fox was doubtful that they could hold the Army at bay for very long.

Adding to Fox's anxiety was the fact that there had been no word of Peppy. Neither the Star Wolf operatives nor Fox's own teammates had any leads concerning his whereabouts. Fox couldn't bring himself to give up on Peppy, but he was beginning to wonder if his mentor had been able to survive. When he wasn't worrying about his teammates, his mind was trying to understand how Corneria could have turned on itself. Being honest with himself, though, Fox had to admit that this change in the Cornerian government shouldn't have surprised him; the upper circles of Corneria's government had been tainted by corruption for years, with every new administration undoing the work of the previous one. What stung at Fox's heart was General Pepper's betrayal. Fox didn't know the first thing about politics, and he didn't care to; he was a fighter, content to let General Pepper deal with the bureaucratic pen-pusher. He stayed out of General Pepper's political agenda, but now it seemed that he and his team were casualties of that agenda. Whether that was due to the general's action or his inaction didn't really matter to Fox; the simple fact was that they were political targets.

Suddenly, the station's alarm panels screeched to life. Fox snapped his attention down to his control panel as Wolf rushed into the room. "What's going on?" Wolf demanded.

Fox surveyed his panel for a few moments and replied, "Two Armada scout ships tripped the perimeter guns. One of them got away."

"Curses!" Wolf muttered. He pushed a large blue button on the panel, and Fox began to hear a low whirring noise.

"What was that?" Fox asked.

"Ray deflectors and particle shields," Wolf answered, "They know we're here now. Those shields are the only thing that can protect us if the weapon systems fail."

"What if they destroy the shield generators?"

Wolf shook his head. "They're housed internally," he answered, "The only way they're gonna get at them is to board the station, and the particle shields will prevent that – at least until they discover the oscillation frequency."

"And then what?" Fox asked.

"Then we jump in the Wolfens and blow this place to hell," Wolf answered, "If they want to take over this station in one piece, I intend to dishearten them."

A new thought occurred to Fox. "What about Panther and the others?" Fox asked.

"Dunno," Wolf answered, "We'll just have to cross that bridge when we get to it."

"Right," Fox muttered under his breath, "Just as long as we don't _burn _that bridge _before_ we get to it…"

"Look, will ya relax?" Wolf said, "This isn't a world-ending catastrophe, it just complicates things a bit. Just… chill, right?"

"Yeah," Fox sighed, "Right. Where's Krystal?"

"I'm here, Fox," Krystal said as she entered the room. Fox put his hand on hers as she touched his shoulder.

"Looks like we're going to have to move up our timetables a bit," Wolf sighed, "Obviously, we can't stay here much longer. Our defenses will only keep for a few days at most."

"So where can we go?" Fox asked impatiently, "It's not every day you find a conveniently-abandoned mining outpost floating through space."

Wolf began typing at one of the computer terminals, examining the readout. "Well," he muttered, "When you've been in this business as long as I have, you find a lot of useful hardware here and there. The Lylat System is full of the Cornerian Army's abandoned junk. They tend to build it and just leave it. Look at this, Fox." Wolf stood aside to give Fox a clear view of the screen.

"Is this the Star Wolf team's database?" Fox asked in surprise. Wolf just nodded. "This is an abandoned garrison," Fox observed. He looked at Wolf and asked, "Where is this?"

Fox continued to read as Krystal looked over his shoulder at the pictures on the screen. "It's an old barracks. Is that snow? That place looks cold."

"Fortuna," Wolf answered, "And yes, it's quite cold – it's in Zone Six. The Army just left it there after the Uprising; they didn't have a need for it, so they just took out the heavy electronics and surveillance equipment and shut down the communication link. Not as useful as this place for a command center, but it's more defensible, and the Army is unlikely to look for us there."

"Fortuna…" Fox muttered and studied the pictures further, "This place looks familiar. I've only been to Fortuna a few times, but it seems like I've visited this spot before."

"You have," Wolf grunted, "Because if you hadn't, that base wouldn't still be there."

Fox's eyes widened. "That's the base you tried to blow up during the -"

Fox was interrupted as the alarm blared again. Fox turned his attention to the screen again. Wolf was watching, too. "It's a Cornerian Army fighter. What? The perimeter guns aren't firing. How are they already…?" Wolf said, "Looks like we'll have to activate them manually."

"No, wait!" Fox put his hand up as he noticed new information on the screen, "That's… what? How is that possible?"

"What is it?" Wolf asked.

"It's transmitting my team's IFF squawk code," Fox raised an eyebrow.

"A Star Fox squawk?" Wolf asked in surprise, "How?"

"I don't know," Fox shook his head, "It's an Arwing, but it's not one of mine. His communication line is red, so it's either not working or turned off. There's no Star Fox insignia on it, but that's definitely our IFF code."

"But who could it possibly be?" Wolf asked, "It's too soon for Panther and Leon, and they wouldn't have an Arwing anyway. If it's one of the Army's -"

"It's Peppy," Krystal interrupted.

"Peppy?" Fox and Wolf both exclaimed. "How do you know?" Wolf asked.

"I just… know," Krystal answered, "I can't explain how. Call it ESP if you want. I just know."

"Fox?" Wolf gave Fox a questioning glance.

"She hasn't been wrong before," Fox answered, "And whoever he is, he's closing on the particle shield. It's still transmitting a Star Fox squawk. I'm opening the shield."

"Fox, wait!" Wolf tried to stop Fox, but Fox brushed his hand away from the panel.

"Wolf, trust me!" Fox said, "Please."

Wolf took in a deep breath and exhaled loudly. The green arrow on the IFF plot moved silently towards the center, which represented the station. "If he's unfriendly and we open the shield…" Wolf started in a dangerous tone, "If he fires, we're completely defenseless. You _know_ that, Fox."

"Who else would know to set a Star Fox transponder code?" Fox countered.

"Curses, Fox! Use your head!" Wolf said, "Peppy was captured! We've both been under the Cornerian DF's third degree before – you know they could have beaten anything out of him!"

"No," Fox answered, "Not Peppy. He would die first."

"And he probably did!" Wolf continued his tirade, "That doesn't mean they don't know! You never know what he might have leaked."

"I am opening the shield," Fox stated in a firm and dangerous tone which left no further room for argument. Fox calmly threw the green switch on the control console. Wolf threw his hands up in obvious frustration as the shield's power indicator diode turned from green to red. Then Wolf turned his head and rushed towards the docking bay.

"Where are you going?" Fox called out after him.

"To my ship, you idiot," Wolf growled, "And if we get out of this alive, I'm gonna see a good shrink who can explain to me why I'm letting you pull this crazy stunt. Maybe you're willing to take this sitting down, but yours truly is sure as hell not going down without a fight."

More than just a little miffed, Fox taunted Wolf. "What's the matter? Scared?"

Wolf furiously whirled around and threw a fist at Fox which sent him reeling from his chair. Fox heard Krystal make a noise which was somewhere between a gasp and a scream. Fox put a hand to the right side of his mouth, feeling a small trickle of blood where Wolf's fist had connected with his jaw. Krystal helped Fox off the floor as Wolf panted from his subsiding adrenaline high.

"I am scared right down to my socks," Wolf announced, "You don't screw around with DF Arwing pilots, even if they are alone." He turned and headed towards his fighter in the docking bay. "I'm not going to start anything," Wolf reassured Fox, "But I _am_ going to make sure that whoever is out there doesn't live to regret his itchy trigger finger."

"Fine," Fox said irritably as he sat back down, "Just don't do anything stupid."

"You mean like opening the shield to an unidentified and potentially hostile contact?" Wolf kept walking.

Fox balled his fist and began to get up, but Krystal put both hands on his arm and sat him back down. "Just let it go," she said, "If you know you're right, it's just not worth it."

Fox rubbed his eye, trying to clear his head. "That hothead is going to get us all killed," he muttered as Krystal rubbed his shoulders.

"But at least he's not the one doing the killing," Krystal said, trying to keep her husband rational. "This _is _his home, after all."

Fox began to protest further but thought better of it. Krystal was right, after all. And Wolf _was_ trying to protect them. Fox supposed it was Wolf's skepticism of Krystal's ability that made him angry. Since Krystal didn't seem to mind, however, Fox decided that it probably was just better to let it go.

"Still no radio contact?" Krystal asked.

"No," Fox answered, "Just the squawk."

"How odd," Krystal said, "Why would Peppy use his transponder and not let us contact him?"

"Because the channels aren't secure," Fox explained, "Chances are that Peppy managed to make it to an Arwing and intercepted enough radio traffic to find out where we were."

"But wouldn't the transponder give him away?" Krystal asked.

"Oh, sure," Fox answered nonchalantly as he continued to monitor the radar plots, "They'll definitely know he's there, but the Army's still all over the place out here. Not even General Pepper knows our intra-team transponder code. Only Peppy could have thought to do that."

Krystal nodded as Fox continued to study the screen. Fox felt the station shudder as Wolf's fighter launched into space. Moments later, the one-eyed pirate's fighter appeared on the map in front of Fox. Fox watched the two marks very closely; it would be just Peppy's luck to escape from Corneria and then get blasted by Wolf and his trigger-happy paranoia. The fighter that Fox had assumed to be piloted by Peppy was not resisting Wolf's attempt to come in on his six o'clock. After a few endless seconds, Wolf was behind the incoming Arwing, and no shots had been fired. Fox opened the communications line to the Wolfen. "Wolf?" he began uncertainly, "What's going on out there?"

"Nothing," Wolf answered, "Fox, it is Peppy. I got a clear look at his face when I went by, and he didn't put up any fight when I got behind him."

"What's the matter then?" Fox asked, detecting a hint of worry in Wolf's voice.

"He's still not answering my hails," Wolf answered, "Don't you think that's just the slightest bit odd?"

"Maybe a little bit," Fox answered, "But maybe he's just not wanting to break radio silence. Our comm lines are secure, but his might not be."

"Well, it's making me a bit jumpy, Fox," Wolf said.

"This whole situation makes me a bit jumpy," Fox answered, "Just bring him in. Hold your fire."

"I know he can hear me," Wolf said, "I had him flash his landing lights at me, so I know my transmissions are getting through."

"Then you shouldn't have anything to worry about," Fox kept his cool, "Just guide him onto the approach and let him handle it from there."

Fox hoped that Wolf wouldn't do anything stupid. Inwardly, though, he knew that Wolf had a right to be both concerned and suspicious. Wolf had stuck his neck out pretty far for Fox's benefit. He reached up and cleaned the dried blood from his face. Both of their tempers had flared a bit; he hoped it could be attributed to anxiety and lack of sleep. Secretly, Fox was afraid. In his heart, he knew that Peppy would never harm them, but the logical part of his mind knew how the Cornerian military could use Peppy to get to him and his team. Still, just the relief of knowing that his team – _all _of his team – was still alive made him feel invincible. That was a feeling that Wolf couldn't understand; although Wolf's teammates were his friends, they were essentially just business partners. Fox's teammates weren't just friends; they were family. Peppy had watched Fox grow from the time Fox had been a small child. Falco had been his best friend all through his school years, and Slippy had been by his side since his Academy days. He hadn't known Krystal nearly as long, but she was his family in the most literal terms, for she was now his wife. Wolf simply didn't have those ties with any of his associates.

After what felt like an inordinately long amount of time, Fox finally heard the roar of the two fighters' engines as they penetrated the station's oxygen envelope. Abandoning the radar console, Fox and Krystal rushed out to meet Wolf and Peppy. Wolf got out of his fighter and started doing his post-flight checks. Peppy started to climb down from his cockpit and fell – into Fox's arms.

"Whoa," Fox grunted, trying to keep Peppy from falling on the floor, "I've got you, old friend." Peppy steadied himself and stood on his feet, coughing a little as Krystal wrapped him in a warm embrace. "What happened?" Fox asked, "Why'd they do this to you?"

"I…" Peppy went into a coughing fit. Krystal let go of him so he could get air, and he cleared his throat and continued. "I don't know," he said hoarsely, "I don't know anything more than you do, Fox. Only that Falco and Slippy are alive and they're still trying to get off of Corneria."

"I know, old friend," Fox said softly, "They're with Star Wolf. They'll be safe."

"Nothing's safe anymore, Fox," Peppy said, "The Army knows you're here. They're not going to wait forever. You've got to get out of here."

"How did you escape?" Wolf asked suspiciously, "And how did you manage to get your hands on this?" Wolf patted the Arwing.

"It was Beltino," Peppy answered, "Beltino got me out. He made it look like an escape. I left Corneria late last night. I don't know what Falco and Slippy are doing, but they were holed up in Kolsok Station at last report. The Army knew you were somewhere in this sector. That's why I came here instead of going to Kolsok. I had to fight off half the Army just to get off the planet."

"And you flew here all the way from Corneria in an _Arwing_?" Wolf asked incredulously. Peppy just nodded tiredly. "And do you know what the Army's going to do next?"

"No, not exactly," Peppy said, "But I do know that they're hunting you. Mercs like us are at the top of their list right now. The new government is still trying to solidify its power."

"Peppy, what is General Pepper's role in all this?" Krystal asked.

Peppy sighed heavily. "I wish I had an answer, Krystal," he said, "But the truth is I don't know. I tried to get Beltino to tell me when he was breaking me out, but he dodged my question."

"Do you think-?" Wolf started, but Fox interrupted him.

"No more questions right now," Fox said, putting his arm on Peppy's shoulder and leading him to someplace where he could sit, "He's had a long night. What we need to figure out now is what our next move is going to be. From what Peppy has just told us, we're not safe here anymore."

"It looks like we might have to make the move to Fortuna sooner than we had planned," Wolf considered.

"But what about Falco and the others?" Krystal asked, "Is Fortuna close enough for them to get there in Star Wolf's fighters?"

"Those fighters aren't like Arwings, missy," Wolf bragged, "We're _pirates_. We can't be dependent on a mother ship like you are. The Wolfen was designed for interplanetary travel. They can do it."

"What about your computer banks here?" Peppy asked Wolf, "If they find them, they'll know where you've gone."

"We're going to destroy this place when we leave," Wolf said, "Everyone knows where it is, so it's no use to me anymore."

Fox nodded. "I'll contact Panther and tell him to meet us on Fortuna," he said, "We'll have some time to set up before they get there; we're closer to it than they are. We can plan our next move from there."

"And what 'next move' is that?" Peppy asked.

"Take back what's ours," Fox said coldly.


	16. Chapter 16

Star Fox: Regime – a fan fiction by Wolf Reynolds  
"Star Fox" and all related characters and trademarks are © Nintendo, Inc.  
Story ©2010 Wolf Reynolds

Important Author's Note: The surname "Fineross" was added to the character of Miyu for the purpose of giving continuity to the story and keeping the format of Lylatian names parallel. Miyu was a character in the unreleased sequel to the 1993 version of _Star Fox _(UK _Lylat Wars_). There is some debate as to whether or not Miyu is actually considered part of the Star Fox canon, but she is popular among many fans of the series – popular enough, in my opinion, to merit an appearance in this story. In any case, Fineross is not her surname in the actual series; I simply felt that she needed a last name to keep the story unified.

CHAPTER 16

_Cornerian Army Listening Post #221 – Kolsok Ice Shelf, Planet Corneria (2221 hours CCT)_

Panther was jolted awake by the sound of an explosion. He jumped out of the cot where he had lain for the last few hours and ran to where the other three were already standing. The explosion was somewhat distant, but it still shook the ground. Falco was holding a rifle which Panther recognized as one of the guns he had been carrying in his ship's cargo hold. The falcon had it trained on the distant horizon but wasn't firing. Leon was just standing there and observing the surroundings, but Panther noticed that the holster for his sidearm was unsnapped. Slippy was towards the rear of the room making several concoctions which looked suspiciously like Molotov cocktails.

After evaluating the situation, Panther decided it would be prudent for him to arm himself. He took a rifle out of the case of guns that Leon and Falco had apparently removed from the ship and attached the loading charge to it. "So they found us, did they?" he finally said as another explosion went off. He heard the distant report of a rifle and then saw a laser impact the side of the building a moment later.

"Looks that way," Falco answered as he squeezed the trigger and fired off two rounds. Laser fire erupted from both sides a moment later. Falco fired more rounds, and Leon drew his sidearm and opened fire.

"Leon," Panther shouted to be heard over the noise of the battle, "What's the condition of the fighters?"

"They're still pretty hot," Leon said, "But I think they're cool enough to break out of orbit."

"The frigid air must have helped," Falco commented and fired several more shots.

"It couldn't have hurt," Panther agreed. _Now this time I can't blame him at all for being in a hurry to get out of here_, Panther thought as he heard the telltale screech of rocket mines going off. He instinctively ducked as an artillery shell whistled overhead. The artillery overshot its target and exploded a fair distance behind them, shaking the ground and causing them all to duck and cover. The shell missed, but it spurred Panther into action. "Let's go," he said, "They're lobbing shells at us; we've got to get out of here."

Another shell exploded, closer this time. "No argument from me," Falco agreed dryly as he got up and fired his rifle again.

"The fighters are behind the building," Panther said, "Let's make a run for it."

The four of them ran out the back door of the building to where the two space fighters were waiting. Before they reached the Wolfen fighters, however, another shell hit, throwing them all to the ground. Panther, Falco, and Slippy immediately got up. Leon did not. Panther rushed over to his fallen comrade.

"Come on!" Falco motioned Panther to hurry, then noticed that Leon was down, "Is he all right?"

A red pool was starting to seep through the snow where Leon had fallen. Panther put his hand on Leon's jugular vein. _Please, no_, he thought, _Come on, Leon, give me something. Anything. _He and Leon had had their share of disagreements, but in the end, they were close comrades and teammates. Not anymore. His friend wouldn't even get a proper burial. Trying not to show emotion, he looked up at Falco and shook his head. "He's had it," Panther said as another shell exploded nearby, "Let's go." They reached the fighters, and Panther opened the canopies with his remote access device. He then whirled around and looked at Falco. "Can you fly one of these things, bird?"

"If it flies, I can fly it," Falco snapped back. Without another word, the bird climbed into Leon's cockpit, with Slippy taking the rear seat. Panther was all alone in his fighter. The two canopies slowly closed as shells continued to explode all around them. Panther was glad these fighters were designed for quick launches; otherwise, they would probably have been hit. It would be close, as it was. Throwing two red switches on his control panel, Panther braced himself as the VTOL rockets fired and the G-diffuser system came online. He glanced over at Falco and noticed the other fighter performing an equally perfect takeoff. _He's flown one of these things before_, Panther thought, _No worries there. Oh, Leon…_

"Falco, can you hear me?" he said into his radio.

"Yeah, loud and clear," came Falco's answer.

"Good," Panther said, "My plasma relays are still just over the yellow line. Yours probably aren't any better. You'd better not fire unless you have to. That should keep it at least cool enough until we get into space."

"Fire?" Falco said, "I'm only interested in getting out of here in one piece, Caroso. I won't start anything if they don't. Are your SSTO thrusters online?"

"Yes," Panther answered. _I'm sorry to leave you here, Leon…_ "And I'm ready to use them. Punch it."

Moments later, both of the Wolfen fighters were hurtling upward through the Cornerian night sky as their potent (yet compact) plasma cores swelled to life. Panther took one last look over his shoulder, back down towards the planet where he had left his friend and trusted wing-mate. He had to believe that underneath the cold assassin was a good person; he'd been seemingly devoid of emotion most of the time, but Leon was always there for his teammates when they needed someone to watch their backs. His life had to have meant _something_ in the end. Panther looked at his radar plot; there were no fighters giving chase. "That's odd," he remarked into his transmitter.

"What?" Falco asked.

"They're not launching fighters after us," Panther said, "They put the expense into mobilizing an artillery unit to the arctic and then don't launch fighters?"

"They let us go, Panther," Falco answered.

"Did they?" Panther asked, "Why would they deploy an entire artillery unit then?"

"They were hoping to catch us on the ground," Falco answered, "There are no Defense Force bases close enough to scramble fighters in time. Their higher-ups know that; by the time they had fighters in the air, they knew we'd be gone. It wasn't worth the risk to them, especially since they have half the armada sweeping the area. It's not over yet, but we won this round."

Panther couldn't really argue, but he couldn't exactly agree. "Leon didn't," he said to himself.

Panther leaned to look towards the other fighter as the three desperate mercenaries left Corneria's orbit. The temperature indicator diodes for his plasma relays were finally glowing green instead of yellow, and all of his ship's functions appeared to be operating normally. The fighters' static defenses would have prevented anyone from planting a tracking device on the fuselage, and both ships' transponders had been temporarily deactivated. For the moment, at least, it looked as though they had made their escape cleanly. The long-range communicator icon on his control panel beeped for attention. A holographic depiction of Wolf's head appeared in front of him.

"Panther, are you there?" he said.

"Yes, boss," Panther answered, "We had to leave Corneria in a hurry when they started shelling us."

"I don't see anyone behind you," Wolf said, "Where are Falco and Slippy?"

"They're in Leon's ship," Panther answered, knowing what was inevitably next.

"Where's Leon, then?" Wolf asked.

Panther was determined to answer as coldly as he could. Wolf knew the risks, and he knew that high emotions wouldn't help anything. "He bought it… back on the planet," Panther said. Wolf didn't react visibly but remained silent for a few moments. Then he sighed.

"Well," Wolf said, sensing Panther's anxiety, "Casualties are part of the game. Leon knew the dangers." He went on, not giving Panther a chance to react. Perhaps that was for the better. "Listen," he said, "We've got a few problems of our own here. Peppy Hare caught up with us, but our position's been compromised. The Army knows we're here now, and they're doing their best to dig us out. We're gonna have to bail. Make sure no one follows you and meet us on Fortuna."

"The Zone Six base?" Panther asked. Wolf nodded and disappeared from view. "Falco, are you still there?"

"Yeah, what's up?" Falco answered.

"Change of plans," Panther explained, "They had to bail out on Sargasso. The plan is to relocate to Fortuna, so we're going to have to flight straight there without alerting the Army."

"Pfft," Falco said skeptically, "Easier said than done, bro."

"No choice," Panther said back. _But he is right_. "Just follow me and try not to break radio silence. And whatever you do, don't activate your transponder."

"Roger that," Falco said, "We'll break radio silence for an update at 0100 hours. Until then I'll be right behind you. Falco out."

The radio went silent, and Panther suddenly felt rather lonely. Even though Falco and Slippy were still physically beside him, he was unable to talk to them through the silence. Now that they had a destination on their flight plans, there was nothing to do but proceed to it. Panther powered up the primary engines and turned his ship away from the bright orb of Corneria and into the cold, silent darkness of space.

_On board the __L.R.S. Pleiades__ – Area Three, Meteo Asteroid Belt (0204 hours CCT)_

Although the hour was very late, Bill was unable to sleep. He sat in the comfortable chair in his cabin aboard the _Pleiades_, just looking out the window at the stars. On his end table was a book – Great Explorers of Lylat by R. Marris. He picked it up about half a dozen times, but he always put it back down, his mind too full to concentrate on reading. He glanced up at the wall and saw the flag he had worked so hard to obtain: a blue field with a single white star. _Rear Admiral William Grey_, he repeated the title to himself in his mind. As much as he liked the sound of it, he felt like he had betrayed everyone he ever cared about in order to achieve it. _You're a fool, __Admiral__ Grey, _he thought to himself, _A spineless fool_.

He knew he would have to face whatever was left of Fox McCloud's team and destroy them, and even knowing that, Bill had accepted his promotion and had taken control of the task force. _What else could I have done? _ He tried to rationalize, but he knew he had no excuses. _I could have resigned my commission,_ he thought to himself. Not that it would have mattered; if he had refused the assignment, he would most likely have been labeled a dissident and arrested on the spot. Once, he would have counted that as a small price for betraying what was left of Fox's team, but now he had to care for Fara. Not that Fara wasn't capable of caring for herself, of course, but any risk that Bill faced would undoubtedly fall upon Fara as well. _I am such a gutless coward_, Bill punished himself. He knew it was his pride that had led him to this. Because of his foolishness, his loyalties were now torn between friends who had saved his life more than once and the love of his life, not to mention the nation he had sworn to serve.

The communicator on his desk beeped for attention, breaking him away from his contemplation. He picked it up and pushed the yellow answer button. "Excuse me, Admiral," the communication officer said through the unit, "You're needed on the bridge."

"I'll be right there, Lieutenant," Bill replied. He sighed and took one last look at the stars. He supposed at the end of the day, the best he could do was his duty – his best duty to what he believed in most. _But what do you believe in most, Admiral Grey?_ said a voice in his head. Bill heaved another sigh and headed for the bridge.

The door to the bridge swung open and everyone snapped to attention as the synthetic tone announced his entrance. "As you were," Bill said. The officers returned to what they were doing before the momentary distraction. Bill walked over to the communications console and gave an inquiring look at his young communications officer. "What's the situation, Lieutenant?"

"We're receiving a signal from the _Valiant Lynx_, sir," the lieutenant replied.

"From Commander Fineross?" Bill said, "Put it on the holo."

"Yes, sir," the officer punched a button on his console. The holographic image of a female lynx's head appeared in the center of the room, generated by lighted apparatuses on the floor and ceiling.

A tired Commander Miyu Fineross, captain of the _Papetoon_-class scout vessel _L.R.S. Valiant Lynx_, addressed her commanding officer with her report. "Admiral, sir, this has to be it," she said, "I've sent seven UAVs towards the old mining outpost, and not one of them came back. The video stream on every single one ended with laser fire from asteroid-based cannon."

"But how is that possible?" Bill said, half to himself, "We secured this area months ago." Tired, confused, and more than a little frustrated, he turned back to Miyu and asked, "Are you sure your recon vehicles' IFFs were set properly? That could well be our own guns firing on you."

"Not possible, sir," Miyu shook her head, "I thought it was friendly fire at first, too, sir. After that I checked our entire complement of UAVs for the proper ident code. If those _are _our guns, they're seriously malfunctioning."

"Unless they've been reverse-engineered," Bill said slightly under his breath.

"Star Wolf?" Miyu suggested.

"Possible," Bill nodded. "That was their former base, after all. The Army's been too busy to send a full cleanup crew in here. We have no idea what sort of traps they might have set before the Aparoid incident."

"What are your orders, sir?" Miyu asked, "Do we arm weapons and proceed forward?"

Bill thought for a moment. _Not yet_, he thought to himself uncomfortably, realizing that everyone's eyes were on him, _I need more time._ He opened his mouth but waited several seconds before he spoke. "No," he finally said, "That little ship of yours could get cut to pieces. We'll clean this place up soon enough, but I'd rather not take unnecessary risks. Get out of there and get back to the fleet, then wait for further orders."

"Aye-aye, sir," Miyu saluted.

"_Pleiades _out," Bill answered her salute. Miyu disappeared from view. Bill sighed in weary aggravation, rubbing his eyes with his hands. At this point, Bill was so tired that he wasn't sure he would even care if they court-martialed him. In point of fact, what he had said to Miyu was the truth. The _Valiant Lynx_ was a tough little vessel, but she would never stand up to the pounding without some help from the rest of the task force. Besides that, Miyu was obviously dead on her feet and therefore wouldn't be at her best. Bill turned to the communications officer again and asked, "Are all of our scout ships in?"

"All except the _Valiant Lynx_, sir," the lieutenant nodded.

Bill yawned. "All right, then," he said, "Pass the word to the rest of the fleet that I want them ready to mobilize and engage by 0930 hours. You have the duty, lieutenant?"

"Yes, sir," he replied.

"Then go ahead and send the message," Bill ordered.

"Aye-aye, sir," the lieutenant nodded.

"I suggest the rest of you get some sack time," Bill said loudly enough for everyone to hear, "We're going to have a full day tomorrow, and reveille is going to come mighty early. Good night." Bill turned around amidst a chorus of "aye-aye, sir" and "good night, sir." He only half heard them. As soon as he left the bridge, he headed back for his cabin. Fara was still busy in engineering, so Bill was once again alone with his thoughts. _You are a fool, Bill Grey._


	17. Chapter 17

Star Fox: Regime – a fan fiction by Wolf Reynolds  
"Star Fox" and all related characters and trademarks are © Nintendo, Inc.  
Story ©2010 Wolf Reynolds

CHAPTER 17

_Sargasso Space Station – Area Three, Meteo Asteroid Belt (0954 hours CCT)_

Staring out the window at distant laser fire, Fox sat back in his chair and sipped a cup of coffee as he waited for Wolf to finish rigging the station to self-destruct. He had hoped it wouldn't come to this, but the fleet was closing in on them, and they didn't have the resources to fight them off. Fox had learned from Peppy that Bill Grey was commanding the task force. Surprisingly, Fox didn't resent Bill for it. Inwardly, Fox knew that Bill was following orders and doing what he thought was right. He didn't envy the newly-promoted admiral the emotional dilemma he must have been feeling.

What saddened Fox the most was the fact that the space station's destruction would likely take quite a few good people (and possibly Bill, for that matter) with it. Wolf didn't seem to care; he justified it by reminding Fox of how many innocents the DF had murdered aboard the _Cloudrunner_. Fox knew, however, that the members of the fleet were mostly doing exactly what Bill was doing: following the orders of the nation they were sworn to serve. This was going to be a terrible waste of fine troops.

The hardest part for Fox was that he knew that he and the others couldn't back down, despite the cost of innocent lives. He could turn himself in and mitigate the circumstances temporarily, but that would amount to treating a symptom rather than curing the disease. Besides, he knew the Defense Force's interrogation tactics, and he could never let Krystal be put through that. Peppy had already been through it, and he wouldn't survive it a second time. Wolf would probably go down fighting before turning himself in. Not feeling boastful, Fox knew that by his sheer reputation, he and the others would be important resistance leaders in the days to come. If he was taken prisoner or killed, the resistance would have that much less impetus. If the new regime was not put down, atrocities like the _Cloudrunner_ disaster would continue. They had no choice but to fight when able and flee when necessary. Fox knew that, but it didn't make him feel any better about being responsible for the deaths of innocents.

Fox knew that casualties were going to be a part of their lives from this point forward; they suffered their first true casualty when Leon died under fire from Cornerian artillery. Fox wasn't particularly fond of Leon, but for better or worse, he and the rest of Star Wolf were his teammates now. Star Fox and Star Wolf, battered but unbeaten, now had to cling to each other for survival. Others would join them in the days to come. Remorse for senseless destruction aside, Fox was filled with a silent, primal rage that anyone would dare threaten harm to Krystal – his Krystal. She nuzzled his neck as he continued to stare out the window, and he ran his fingers through her soft hair. He would become a destroyer of worlds in order to keep her safe, no matter the cost. Fox held her tightly, as if the absence of her touch would be like the absence of drawing breath. For Fox, it might as well have been; without Krystal, Fox's world was pale and empty. His breathing quickened, and he held her even closer as he heard the approach of Wolf's footsteps. _Please, not yet_, he thought, not wanting to let go of Krystal and force his tired body back into action, _Just one moment more. Please._

Fox sighed audibly as Wolf and Peppy appeared in the doorway. Wolf obviously noticed Fox's distress; he stayed silent for a moment, then said with a gentleness that was somewhat unnatural for him, "Time to go, Fox."

Fox just sat for a moment, then he finally let go of Krystal and stood. He took a deep breath and said, "Right. What's the story?"

"I've rigged all of the charges to a self-destruct program that Peppy wrote in the main computer," Wolf answered.

"How does it work, Peppy?" Fox asked.

"The force fields will permanently deactivate as soon as our ships cross the thresholds," Peppy explained, "Thirty seconds after we're away, the charges go off."

"What about the dampening fields, Wolf?" Fox asked, still somewhat unnerved by Wolf's callous attitude towards the damage they would be causing.

Wolf surprised him. "They'll still be in place, Fox," Wolf said, "Splash damage should be minimal."

Fox just nodded. "What's the plan?" he finally asked, "Peppy, you really shouldn't be doing this type of flying; you're not young anymore."

"Maybe not," Peppy said, mildly offended, "But I'm not exactly an old geezer."

Wolf chuckled under his breath, drawing an irate stare from Fox's mentor. Fox cut in quickly, trying to quell the ensuing argument before it started. "Peppy, I… didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry," he said, shooting a "drop it" glance in Wolf's direction, "I'm not saying you _can't_ do this kind of flying; I'm just saying that you _shouldn't_. If we get into a dogfight out there, I'd feel safer with two pilots who are fresh out of combat situations."

"That would be you and Wolf," Peppy hung his head, "I understand, Fox. I'll take Wolf's rear seat."

"That's what I had in mind," Fox said, then turned to Wolf. "That's if you have no objections, Wolf?"

Wolf just shrugged; it wasn't like they had any choice. It would be a tight fit for Fox and Krystal; Arwings weren't really designed to carry two, but they had no other option. They couldn't stay, and those were the only two ships they had. Besides, being close to Krystal wasn't exactly new to Fox. Fox knew it would be difficult, but he considered himself a competent enough pilot to handle it. _If only Falco were here_, Fox thought, then reconsidered. Falco and Slippy were much safer with Panther than they would be here. Fox pondered the situation for a few moments. "Maybe we should warn them," Fox finally said.

"No," Peppy answered immediately. Fox would have expected it from Wolf, but Peppy must have had a thought-out reason. "They already know we're here," the hare continued, "That wouldn't serve any purpose. They'd just blow us up without even _trying _to take us alive. We can't stand up to that. Making a run for it is our only choice right now, and blowing this station up will buy us the distraction we need."

The station trembled violently as a laser blast shattered a nearby asteroid into brilliant fragments of cosmic powder. "Let's get it over with, then," Fox braced himself as the station shuddered, "Before the Armada makes the decision for us." The four of them sprang into action. Fox jumped into the Arwing and slid forward so Krystal could straddle the seat behind him. Fox paused sentimentally for the briefest of moments as his hands touched the control interface. It wasn't _his _beloved Arwing, but it was an Arwing. He became one with the ship, felt his affinity with it take hold of him. His heart raced as the familiar hum of the fighter's plasma core sang to him. It was almost the sweetest music his ears had ever perceived, surpassed only by the rhythmic pulse of Krystal's breathing behind him.

He quickly performed the preflight checks by rote, observing gauges and flipping switches to power up all of the necessary systems. On the communications line, images appeared as the fighter linked to the other nearby communication systems. Wolf's image appeared, and beside it was a holographic square which remained a blank grey. Fox looked at it curiously for a moment, then assumed that it must have been the still-active line being transmitted by the station itself. "Communication line green," he said, "You with me, Wolf? Peppy?"

"Both here, Fox," Wolf said, "Let's get out of here while we're still in one piece."

"Right," Fox answered as the two fighters blasted off into space, "Try to stay out of a dogfight if you can. Don't fire unless they fire first."

"Hey, I give the orders here, hotshot," Wolf bellowed angrily.

"Not right –" Fox started.

"Stop it!" Krystal interrupted, "There's no time for this! Let's just get out of here. The station's going to explode any second."

A Cornerian patrol vessel swept in front of the two ships. Two small Defense Force fighters detached from the top of the vessel and flew towards the station. As Fox and Wolf drew closer to the patrol ship, they broke right in order to avoid the ship's gun turrets, but the grey square on Fox's communication line began to resolve into an image. _So it isn't the station's line? _Fox wondered. _Well, with all this interference, I could be picking up on the fleet's transmissions, I guess. _The image then began to show a face which nearly broke Fox's resolve. _Miyu…_

_On board the __L.R.S. Valiant Lynx__ – Area Three, Meteo Asteroid Belt (1002 hours CCT)_

Miyu sat at the helm of the _Valiant Lynx_, keeping firm control of the events unfolding before her. Between herself and the forward windshield panes was a communications line with three faces, one of them Admiral Grey's. Something about this felt wrong, yet with explosions going off all around her, she was hardly in a position to contemplate the moral implications of the mission. _Be a good soldier_, she reminded herself irritably, _Just keep your mouth shut and do as you're told. _Two ships whizzed by the "bridge" of the _Valiant Lynx_ ("control deck" was probably a more accurate description; the ship wasn't really large enough to have a dedicated "bridge"), and they weren't Cornerian fighters – at least, they weren't the scouts she had just dispatched.

"Admiral, sir?" she said to her commander, "We just had two unidentified fighters fly past us. They didn't fire, but they're headed in your direction. Should I re-task my fighters or continue as before?"

"No, we'll take care of them, Commander," Admiral Grey replied, "Keep your men headed for that station. If they left any leads behind, we have to find them." The admiral's image was distorted by static for a moment. "We're headed into the magnetic disturbance zone," he said, "I'll get back with you as soon as we're out of it. _Pleiades _out." Admiral Grey's image faded from the communications line.

"Donaldson, Fisher," she ordered her two fighter pilots, "Steady as you go. Look for the mainframe as soon as you land, and be careful. They could be hiding." The two pilots acknowledged the orders. Miyu tried not to distract them; this job was difficult enough without her yammering in their ears. Then Fox McCloud appeared on her communication line. _What in the seven hells is __he__ doing on my screen? _Her face took on the appearance of someone who had just seen a ghost – she might as well have; Fox McCloud had supposedly died aboard the _Cloudrunner_.

"It's been a lot of years, Fox," she said, sounding a bit more caustic than intended, "They told us you were dead."

"Well, they tried," Fox answered, "No time to explain right now, Miyu. You've got to get your men out of here."

"I can't do that, Fox," she said, "Look, the Senate Committee might be willing to make a deal with you. This'll be a lot easier on all of us if you would just come back to Corneria with us."

"_I _can't do _that_, Miyu," Fox answered, "They blew up the _Cloudrunner _and everyone on it just so they could get to me. They have no interest in making any sort of deal."

"You're lying!" she gasped, "The Defense Force exists to protect!"

"Miyu, please," Fox begged, "I was there. I realize that we've clashed a few times, but have I ever lied to you?"

She knew he was right. But how could he be. _No… _she thought, _He must be lying… but he doesn't lie. Not Fox. But __why__? _"No, Fox," she finally admitted, "But I can't just let you go! I have to follow my orders."

"I don't care about your orders right now, Miyu!" Fox said, "If I did, we wouldn't be talking. You've got to get your men out of there now!"

She suddenly put the pieces together in her mind. It was a trap. Fox was trying to warn her at great personal risk to himself. She rammed the ship's throttle into full reverse and screamed into the communication line. "Fisher! Donaldson! Get out of there _now_! Get back here! That's an order!" Too late. Miyu watched in horror. The massive explosion of the station filled her view as it expanded, engulfing the two fleeing fighters. _No! _her mind's voice screamed.

"I'm sorry, Miyu," Fox said, sounding just as distressed, "I'm s-" The transmission was severed as a broken wing from one of the destroyed fighters struck the ship and destroyed her transmitter. The jolt sent her flying from her chair and reeling onto the steel deck. She was adrift and helpless; her ship was in tatters, and indeed, her entire world wasn't in much better shape than her poor _Valiant Lynx_. Fox's voice still rang in her head. _"I'm sorry, Miyu."_ She didn't feel very valiant at the moment. She left Star Fox because she harbored feelings for its leader, and he didn't even know. Now he was leaving her again, this time on the opposite side of an unnecessary war. She had gotten to hear his sweet voice one more time, and she didn't even get to hear him say goodbye. He belonged to another now, but she still belonged to him, and he didn't even know – would _never_ know. She always felt like she and Fox were on opposite sides of an unbreakable glass; she could always see him, but she could never reach him. She could never be his Miyu; she was doomed to be Commander Fineross of the Lylat Armada. She looked out the windows again and saw Fox – she was sure that the small fighters had to have been Fox and someone else – fly off into space, out of her reach again. She collapsed on the floor in tears, sobbing herself into unconsciousness.

_Lylat Deep Space Traffic Control Sector Y – Area Two, near Planet Fichina (1700 hours, CCT)_

Falco hovered in the trancelike state between sleep and wakefulness. The steady drone of the plasma relays kept him from completely dozing off, but they also had a rather hypnotic effect that dulled his senses somewhat, making him drowsy. The autopilot control blipped regularly every few seconds, keeping the ship steady on its course so that he could try to catch a quick nap. Slippy shook him from behind, startling him somewhat.

"Falco?" he said, "Are you awake? It's 1700 hours. Time to check in with Panther."

"Right," Falco muttered sleepily, then turned on his communicator, "Wolfen-2 to Wolfen-3," he said, "Panther, are you there?" There was silence for a few seconds; Falco could see Panther in the ship that was at his starboard wing, and he looked just as sleepy as Falco had been a few moments earlier. "Come on, Panther, wake up," Falco said, "Stay with me, here."

"Huh?" Panther's static-laden voice came through to Falco's cockpit, "Oh – sorry, Falco. I guess I took a little siesta. Where are we?"

"We're coming up on Fichina," Falco said, "I think we lost all the patrols. I'd say we're about three or four hours out of Fortuna. You think it's safe to communicate now, or should we go back to radio silence?"

"No, no," Panther said, sounding like he was suppressing a yawn, "I think we're safe now. The army doesn't come through the Fortuna Binary very often; there's nothing of interest to them here."

"Except us," Falco said half-jokingly.

"Uh-huh," Panther replied without a chuckle. "Hey, you mind if I take the lead here? I know the way, so it's probably better if I lead us in."

"Be my guest," Falco said. Panther fired his boosters and moved his ship to fly in front of Falco's. Falco didn't mind; he'd been all over the place in his running with the gangs, but this territory was somewhat unfamiliar to him. All he knew is that only a few hours ahead lay a place of relative safety – where he would be reunited with dear friends he thought were dead, and where he would be able to stop running, at least for awhile. Maybe poor Slippy would finally be able to relax; well, rest, at least. _I don't think any of us are going to be doing much relaxing in the near future_, Falco thought, _It looks like we've built ourselves a nice little war here. _Somehow, that figured. Falco had been in the mercenary business a long time, and he had learned one very important lesson: even trustworthy governments and organizations could not be trusted. _C'est la vie_, he thought, _I suppose I should be used to this by now._


	18. Chapter 18

Star Fox: Regime – a fan fiction by Wolf Reynolds  
"Star Fox" and all related characters and trademarks are © Nintendo, Inc.  
Story ©2010 Wolf Reynolds

**Author's Note**: There is a romance scene in this chapter, but it doesn't go beyond the bounds of the T rating. There's nothing explicit here, in other words (nothing more than what you'd see in a PG-13 movie). Everything is implied; it's safe, even for younger readers (no slash/lemon, or whatever the heck those things are called…). It's just something I'm trying here; if I get much negative feedback on it, I'll get rid of it. I realize that I originally stated that there was no romance in this fiction, but this one seemed to advance the story well (and it's fairly tame). I'm listening to my readers on this one – if you don't like it, please say so.

CHAPTER 18

_On board the __L.R.S. Pleiades__ – Area Three, Meteo Asteroid Belt (0128 hours CCT)_

The light from the massive explosion of the Sargasso mining outpost began to fade away from sight as Bill Grey watched from the bridge of the _Pleiades_. Even though they weren't close enough to see the actual space station, its massive explosion had filled the windows of the ship's bridge. The station had exploded more than twelve hours earlier, but the explosion was only now beginning to fade. Bill suspected that dampening fields had been in place, which would have kept the blast alive somewhat. _Fox would have done something like that if he were alive_, Bill thought, _He wouldn't have wanted to hurt anyone_. Bill came to the conclusion that this must have been Star Wolf; Bill knew Wolf O'Donnell – not as well as Fox had known him, perhaps, but he still knew him. Under his gruff exterior, Wolf wouldn't have wanted the explosion to wipe out the entire fleet. Still, the blast and resulting shockwave had been massive. Now they were trying to assess the damage; Commander Fineross and the _Valiant Lynx _had been closer – much closer. The explosion had been enormous. Bill sipped coffee from his mug (which bore the badge of the _Pleiades_) and looked out the window again at the fading light. He looked down at the emblem on the coffee cup and noticed with a cynical, humorless chuckle that it still said "L.F.S.", the fleet registry letters of the old government, instead of the new "L.R.S."

"Still no contact from the _Valiant Lynx_, Lieutenant?" Bill turned solemnly to the communications officer.

"Nothing, sir," the lieutenant replied, "Not even an IFF ident code. I've been trying to contact Commander Fineross, but it's as if she isn't there."

"Could we go in after her, sir?" the helmsman asked, "She would do the same for us."

"I know she would, Sullivan," Bill answered, "But we'd never be able to get this barge in there in one piece. The whole area's mined and full of those automated guns. That's territory for a scout ship like the _Lynx_. And we have a mission of our own – Miyu wouldn't want us to give up on that just to get ourselves blown to bits going after her."

"Yes, sir, Admiral," the helmsman nodded gravely.

"Lieutenant Ferguson," Bill turned to face his communications officer.

"Yes, sir?" the lieutenant asked.

"Please note the time and present situation in the task force duty log," Bill ordered, "List Commander Fineross and Lieutenants Donaldson and Fisher as 'missing in action'. Send a sit-rep to Command and request instructions."

"Aye-aye, sir," Ferguson replied.

"Notify me when their reply comes through," he said, then turned around to leave the bridge, "I'll be in my quarters. Commander Sullivan, you have the conn."

Bill walked down the corridor to his cabin. As the task force's admiral, he had the luxury of a large cabin. Indeed, it was one of the few luxuries he was able to enjoy. Of course, part of that luxury was the fact that he shared his quarters with another member of the ship's crew – namely, its chief engineer. The fennec stood waiting for him as he sat down in his chair by the window. Bill rubbed his sinuses; it had been a long day, and he was exhausted and depressed. He was out in the middle of deep space hunting people who'd never done anything to him, and all on behalf of a government he wasn't sure he believed in anymore. It was just too much.

Fara began to massage his shoulders, releasing the tension from his neck. "What is it?" she asked.

"I don't know," Bill answered wearily, "Things just aren't simple. Why are we fighting and dying here?"

"To protect the stability of the Republic," Fara answered, "These are hard times for them. A lot of people don't think the government is legitimate."

"Do you?" Bill gave her an inquisitive glance.

"I don't know," she sighed, "But you're tired, and I'm sure neither one of us is particularly keen on talking politics right now."

"I won't argue with that," Bill walked over to the bed and sat down, "I feel like I've been pulled through a machine." He paused as he noticed Fara just standing there, looking lovingly at him. "Are you coming to bed?" he asked.

She walked over to him and began to nuzzle his neck. "Is that an order, _Admiral_?" she whispered in his ear. Bill just took her in his arms and pulled her down beside him, kissing her as if he never would again. She worked the tension out of his neck and back, taking off his shirt so she could reach more easily. He was hers, and she was his.

"Oh, Fara…" Bill panted, "Why did we let ourselves get mixed up in this mess?"

Fara put a silencing finger over his mouth. "No more words," she said, "Kiss me." Bill did. The two of them melted into each other, and everything disappeared. There was no Admiral Grey, no _Pleiades_, no Lylat System; there was only Bill and Fara – life partners, lovers, husband and wife. Bill wanted it to last forever. Right now, Fara was right. This was a time for no words. They were in each other's arms, and nothing else mattered. Bill had made a solemn vow to serve the Lylat System, but he had made another solemn vow not so very long ago – and he held that vow in higher esteem: "I promise to cherish and respect you, to care for and protect you, to comfort and encourage you, and to stay with you, for all eternity." And he had said that sacred vow to Fara – _his_ Fara – not to Lylat. _For all eternity_. Eternity had not ended when the Democratic Republic came to power.

In her arms, Bill felt safe. With her, he felt no fear. For Bill, there was no greater love or loyalty than to the wife with whom he shared his life, his heart, and his very soul. That was the very essence of who Bill Grey was, and it was something that Lylat could not claim, regardless of the duty or responsibility held by Admiral Grey. Right now, he wasn't her commanding officer; right now, he was her husband – he was just _hers_.

_DF Auxiliary Air Station #204 (defunct) – Zone Six, Planet Fortuna (0954 hours CCT, 2154 hours local time)_

The darkened corridors of the Army's abandoned airbase were cold, dismal, and sterile. It was somewhat disheartening for Falco; his morale was already lagging, and he had arrived with Slippy and Panther before Fox and the others. What made it worse was that he had no idea why. Considering how much closer Sargasso was than Corneria, Wolf and the others should have arrived first. There had been no contact from Wolf O'Donnell since his original message two days ago – and he had stated in that message that he and the others with him were under fire. Leon Powalski was dead, and Fox and the others may not have fared much better.

It was very cold outside; snow covered the ground, and Falco saw that more was falling as he looked out the window. _Great, _Falco thought, discouraged, _ Out of one ice-box and into another_. Corneria's planet-wide seasonal cycle was parallel to that of Fortuna's northern hemisphere, so that meant that there wouldn't be much warmth to look forward to when they got back to Corneria. _If we ever do get back_, Falco thought gloomily. The corridors were still frigid and the lights still off; the station's power plant had been inactive since shortly after the Uprising, and Slippy had had to make several minor repairs before he was able to begin the reactor's startup cycle. The backup generators had been out of commission for some time. There would not be sufficient electricity to power the base for a few more minutes, at least, and that was assuming that the power plant came online successfully at all.

Falco muttered to himself as he tried to keep warm. He was alone; Panther and Slippy had gone to separate areas of the base to get it as operational as possible before Fox and the others got there. Slippy was in the power plant getting the generator up and running, and Panther had made his way to what had been the base's command information center in hopes of finding some undamaged computer equipment so he could begin setting up some sort of defense network. Falco was searching the rest of the base to make sure that they were indeed alone. The pale fluorescent lights came on in the corridor. _Nice going, Slippy,_ Falco thought, _Now if we could just get some heat in here. _Falco had heard the heating system come on, of course, but it would take awhile to warm the base from its sub-freezing temperature, even on full force.

Coming to the end of the long corridor, Falco opened the door whose sign read "Hangar #18". He entered the hangar and shielded himself against the wind and snow that blew in from the outside. With power now flowing through the base, Falco pulled the lever to close the massive hangar door. He shook the snow out of his crest feathers as the enormous metal bulkhead slammed shut. He then looked up and saw a sight that boosted his morale substantially. _Hello, sweetheart_, he thought as he walked over to one of the aircraft parked in the hangar. The Arwing appeared to be in good condition, despite years of neglect. There were eight Arwings in the hangar, all neatly parked in two rows of four. Falco wondered if any of them worked.

_Only one way to find out,_ he shrugged. Falco jumped into the cockpit of the Arwing and threw the autostart switch. It whirred for a few moments, then it died. Falco smiled. It was the sound he expected, but it wasn't a bad sound to his trained ear. _Just a stale battery,_ he thought, beaming, _A little bit of charge, and she'll fire right up_. Then Falco considered something else. _This doesn't make any sense, _he thought, _Why would the Army leave all these perfectly-good Arwings behind?_ _This has to be some sort of trap_.

He climbed down from the cockpit of the Arwing and unclipped the walkie-talkie from his belt. "Panther," he called, "Are you sure we're safe here? I just found a hangar full of Arwings in near-mint condition."

"I know," Panther called back, "We're pirates, remember?"

"You mean this is _your _stuff?" Falco asked incredulously.

"Well, you didn't think we kept our entire stockpile on one tiny space station, did you?" Panther laughed. "We were going to sell the parts on the black market, but now we might need them intact, I think."

"Anything else down here I should know about?" Falco asked cynically.

"Well, you'll find more Arwings in some of the other hangars," Panther explained, "But we're also sitting on one of the biggest weapon caches in the Lylat System."

"Wait – what kind of weapons?" Falco asked, not sure he wanted to know.

"You name it, we've got it," Panther said proudly, sounding almost like a salesman, "You need anything short of a nuke, I can pretty much guarantee that it's down there. We've got enough here to run a small war."

"Well, we might have to use them for exactly that," Falco said as he made his way to the door, "Let's just hope it doesn't turn into a _big _war." Falco shook his head as he shut the door behind him. "I'm checking out the other areas to make sure there's nobody lurking. I'll be up there in a little bit. Falco out."

Falco shut off his walkie-talkie and clipped it to his belt again. Now that the power to the base was restored and the heating system reactivated, the corridors were beginning to warm up again. Falco was glad of that. He felt warm air flowing from the ventilation system and unzipped his jacket a little. The hallways were still well below normal room temperature, but Falco was feeling a little warm from walking all around the base. He came to the hangar whose door was numbered "12" and went inside. There were no Arwings in this hangar, but Falco quickly discovered that Panther hadn't been lying with his claims about Star Wolf's extensive stockpile of weapons.

He saw several crates full of rifles, ammunition, and other various personal armaments. He looked over at one of the loading cranes in the corner of the room and did a double-take. _Holy mackerel! _he thought, _That's a fuel air bomb! He wasn't kidding when he said "anything short of a nuke". _Falco also noted that the loading area contained several other ordnances of considerable size. The thought crossed Falco's mind that even though he didn't know where they were keeping the ships and/or systems, he had the uneasy feeling that Star Wolf had the capability to deliver those ordnances.

Then Falco heard a rustling behind him. He whipped his blaster out of its holster and whirled around, ready to discharge the weapon if necessary. It was Slippy. "Geez, Slippy," Falco exhaled and lowered his weapon, "You shouldn't sneak up on me like that. I thought you were in the power plant."

"I was," Slippy answered, "I got everything up and running again. The reaction is self-sustaining now. We should be able to keep the lights on more or less indefinitely."

"That's good news," said Falco, "But quite frankly, I'm more interested in the _heat_ than the lights at the moment."

"Well, you'll just have to be patient," Slippy said, "The heat is on, but this is a big base. It's going to take awhile to get everything running. Just be grateful we have running water; if the pipes hadn't been insulated, they'd have frozen solid."

"Yeah, yeah," Falco waved him off. Slippy could be _such _a drip at times. "Whatever," he said, "I'm less worried about that than I am about all of this," he swept his wing to indicate the contents of the hangar. "I realize Star Wolf would have amassed a substantial amount of plunder over the last several years, but _all _of this? It seems a tad suspicious to me."

"How so?" Slippy said, "They're pirates. Isn't that what they do?"

"Use your head, Slip. There's probably several billion credits' worth of government property in this hangar alone," Falco said calmly, trying to teach his young comrade the finer points of military workings, "Not to mention all the fighters in number 18. Doesn't it strike you as the least bit odd that nobody's come looking for it?"

"Maybe they got some of it on the black market," Slippy shrugged, "They've probably stolen enough loot to pay for the goods."

"Some of it, maybe," Falco agreed, "But a stockpile _this _big? _Someone_ would have noticed. I've been in this business a long time, and a war-sized weapons cache in a conveniently-abandoned army base sounds a bit fishy to me."

"What are you suggesting?" asked Slippy, "You think Star Wolf has made some sort of deal with the Army?"

Falco heard footsteps coming down the corridor. His left wing automatically reached for the blaster at his hip, but he didn't draw it yet. He turned his head and saw Panther coming. Falco lowered his voice and told Slippy, "I'm suggesting that there's more going on here than Panther or Wolf has told us, and we'll have to watch their every move until we find out what it is."

Slippy nodded as Panther approached him and Falco. _I really hope he hasn't come here to brag about this stash_, Falco mentally groaned, _That cat is going to drive us all crazy some day._

"Impressive, no?" Panther smirked. Falco's mental groan turned audible. "Relax, Falco," Panther said, seeming to read his mind, "I didn't come here to crow. I came here to tell you – " Panther was interrupted by the deafening engine noise of fighters flying in close overhead. Falco instinctively ducked, even though they were inside. After the noise died down, Panther explained, "Well, I came to tell you _that_. Those fighters were Fox and the boss."

"Fox _is_ the boss," Falco asserted, miffed at Panther's tacit suggestion that Falco Lombardi should take orders from the leader of Star Wolf.

"This is no time to argue over divided loyalties, bird," Panther said, "They'll be meeting us in the CIC in just a few minutes, so I came down here to get the two of you."

_They made it_, Falco's confidence surged. Despite everything, the entire Star Fox team (even tired old Peppy) was still alive and would be reunited in just a few minutes. Not bothering to reply to the antagonistic Panther, Falco made his way out of the hangar and towards the base's control room.


	19. Chapter 19

Star Fox: Regime – a fan fiction by Wolf Reynolds  
"Star Fox" and all related characters and trademarks are © Nintendo, Inc.  
Story ©2010 Wolf Reynolds

CHAPTER 19

_On board the __L.R.S. Valiant Lynx__ – Deep Space Traffic Control Sector X, Area Four, near Meteo Asteroid Belt (2126 hours CCT)_

Adrift and powerless, the once-proud _Valiant Lynx_ was now forlorn and disheveled as she floated helplessly through the icy darkness of deep space. Aboard the ship, Miyu Fineross lay unconscious upon the cold steel deck of the scout vessel. She awoke slowly to see the ship's crew compartment and flight deck as dim and lifeless as she had left it, illuminated only by the weak blue glow of the ship's emergency lights. Following the procedure ingrained in every officer's training, the bedraggled commander pushed herself off of the floor and wandered to the flight deck to check the ship's control console. As she expected, the ship's automation unit had followed standard operating procedure and shut down everything except the life support systems and the gravitational field generator in order to preserve power.

That explained why the engines weren't running. The only sound was the soft hum of the small plasma core that powered the ship. She navigated through the console screens to check all of the ship's systems. The engines were not functional; the engines' relays had apparently gotten disconnected from the plasma core. The communication array had been completely destroyed, so she wouldn't be able to send or receive any type of communication; she wouldn't even show up on the fleet's radar screens, since the transponder that encoded her squawk code and IFF signal transmitted through the same array. Not that it mattered; looking at the ship's chronometer, Miyu saw that she had been adrift for nearly thirty-six hours. The fleet wasn't even looking for her.

Miyu looked down at her right sleeve and saw the patch which bore the likeness of the Lylat Republic's flag. With tears welling up in her eyes, she angrily tore the patch from the shoulder of her fatigues and tossed it bitterly. A voice in the back of her mind told her that she was breaking an oath she took, but she quickly silenced it. _The oath I took was to the Federation,_ she brooded, _Not to this perversion of justice they call the "Republic"._ The Federation was dead. The Republic had betrayed her when it tried to destroy the love of her life, and then it had abandoned her. _Not even Bill stood by me_, she thought disconsolately.

She didn't have to check the navigation computer to have a basic idea of where she was; the luminous, X-shaped blue cloud of the Area Four STC sector filled her view as she looked out the front windows of the ship. Miyu didn't know how, but the ship had somehow drifted out of the asteroid field without taking any hits. Miyu wished it hadn't; everything she ever knew or cared about was lost. An asteroid tearing her ship apart would have been a blessing for her. If Miyu believed in one thing, however, it was that all life had purpose while it lasted. If the powers that be had prevented her ship from being destroyed, there must have been a reason for it.

With new resolve, Miyu wiped a tear from her eye. _Well_, she determined, _I am __not__ going to be reduced to a whimpering bundle of nerves._ Miyu deftly ran her hands across the controls of the ship to let it know that she was conscious again and that the ship needed to restore power to the other systems. The main lights came on, which caused Miyu to shield her eyes from the unexpected brightness. The soft hum of the plasma core increased in volume as it adjusted its reaction to compensate for the increased power requirement. _So much for the easy part_, she thought. Now she had to get the engines back online.

Miyu walked towards the back of the ship and lifted one of the steel deck plates. Underneath it was a small compartment, just large enough for Miyu to climb down into it. She looked through the tangle of wires, pipes, and conduits, hoping the problem was something simple. Once again, her luck took a turn for the better. The relay manifolds were undamaged and had simply become disconnected from the core; apparently, the jolt caused by the ship's collision with the fighter wreckage had jarred the conduits loose. Grabbing the tool kit that was stored nearby, Miyu reconnected the manifolds to the plasma core and climbed out of the compartment, replacing the deck plate as she did. Miyu returned to the control panel and set the throttle levers back to the "Idle" position. The EICAS panel now indicated a nominal status for the engines, but the activity levels for both the port engine and the starboard engine still read zero. Reaching for the two overhead toggle switches, Miyu took a deep breath. _I sure hope this works_, she thought. She switched the two starter switches and held her breath. The whine of the electric starters grew louder, and the ship shuddered slightly as the engines finally turned over.

Now she had a ship. Lylat had taken everything from her, so now she was taking back. The _Valiant Lynx _was hers now, and she intended to use it. Yes, Lylat would pay. It had stolen her life, it had stolen her pride, and it had stolen her Fox, and now it was going to pay. Miyu had no way to communicate and no idea where to go, but she had a ship with two working engines. There was only one place she could think to go: Fox McCloud. She didn't know where he was, but she was going to find him. He could never be hers because he already belonged to someone else, but surely he wouldn't turn his back on her when she needed him so desperately. _I just won't let him see the way I feel about him_, Miyu told herself, _Right. I'll just be… professional. He never has to know._ _But what if he doesn't let me near? I was helping the fleet hunt him, after all. _She already knew the answer to that. Fox was loyal to his teammates, even when they weren't particularly loyal to him. Falco Lombardi was living proof of that. Besides, she had a mostly-functional DF ship at her disposal. That alone, she thought, would make her a valuable ally. Miyu throttled up the engines, leaving behind the asteroid field, her dead comrades, and the fleet that had stolen the last five years of her life.

_DF Auxiliary Air Station #204 (defunct) – Zone Six, Planet Fortuna (2215 hours CCT, 1015 hours local time)_

For the first time since the destruction of the _Cloudrunner_, Fox felt true and unabashed relief. As he stood in the CIC of the old airbase on Fortuna, he stood face to face with every member of his team. Star Fox was together again. Against all odds and in spite of everything that had happened, Star Fox was whole again. He stood beside Krystal, his arm intertwined with hers. Slippy, Peppy, and Falco stood around him. There had been embraces and tears of joy from all of them, even Falco. Now they were together once again, and they would be working on their master plan to strike back at Lylat and restore her to what she had been before the coup. The war (for Fox knew that war was exactly what it would be) had already cost them. They had no idea where ROB, their team's robot and primary source of situational information, had been taken or what had happened to it, but they considered ROB as lost, for they could do little else. Star Wolf had lost Leon Powalski, and nothing could bring him back. Fox was sure that Wolf and Panther felt Leon's loss more keenly than they showed; his death had, after all, essentially dissolved the Star Wolf team. Now they were just two bounty-hunters-turned-pirate who happened to be working together.

Wolf was beginning to gain Fox's trust, but Fox still questioned both his motives and his methods. This was especially true after Falco had told him about Star Wolf's massive weapons cache. A simple pirate band could never have amassed that sort of stockpile unnoticed. Now wasn't the time to bring up the subject, though; Wolf had saved all of their lives, and more than once. Whatever his reasons, he was working for Fox's interests at the moment.

Whatever the future might bring, the seven of them were together for now and were likely to be working together for some time to come. The key now was to become organized into an efficient machine that could undermine the new regime. Fox knew that wouldn't be easy; an army of seven wasn't much of an army. At the moment, however, it was all they had. There would be others. Fox was not so naïve as to think that he and his comrades were the only ones being unjustly hunted by the DRL. Fox had hoped to avoid putting Bill Grey into a position of divided loyalty, but he knew that if he were seriously entertaining the notion of commandeering the _Pleiades_, he would very likely force Bill into having to decide whether to embrace Fox as a friend or to engage him as a foe. Miyu was fully in the service of the Republic – if she wasn't dead. Fox's conscience hammered him for what happened to Miyu; even though the situation had been completely beyond Fox's control, he still felt responsible.

Fox dismissed these thoughts as they came; he _had _tried to warn Miyu, after all. It was enough for him right now that the others had survived. Fox looked out the window of the control tower at one of the base's six runways. It looked cold, empty, and lonely. No ILS lights flashed at the end of the pavement; no threshold beacons illuminated the snowstorm. Even though it was nearly midday, the sky was dark with steely winter clouds, heavy with snow. Fox hoped this airbase would be filled with activity soon. Right now, the CIC was just beginning to come to life as Slippy got the computer systems up and running.

"Fox, you okay?" Falco's voice brought Fox out of his contemplation.

"Yeah, Falco," he said, "I'm fine."

"Okay, Wolf," Falco said, turning to Wolf, "You've brought us all here. What's our next move?"

"Humph," Wolf scoffed, "Fine thanks. I just saved your miserable hides for the fourth time. A little more gratitude is in order, I think."

"I'm so sorry, Wolf," Falco said sarcastically, "Next time we're fleeing from Cornerian artillery, I will get on my knees and pray to the great Lord O'Donnell for deliverance."

"Listen, bird," Wolf started angrily, "If you think I –"

"Enough," Fox cut him off, stepping between the two and giving Falco a stern look, "All of our nerves are running a little short right now." Fox turned to Wolf. "We're all grateful, Wolf," he said, "You know that. It's just that we've all been under the gun. I think turning this place into a viable command center should be our first priority."

"I agree," Wolf said, shooting Falco a final irritated glance, "We'll have to be careful to keep this place discreet, though. If the Republic finds out we're here, it'll be all over. We have nowhere else to go, and automated defenses will only go so far, even with our weapons cache. There aren't enough of us to defend this place."

Fox checked one of the operational computers. He opened a program and was met with an index of files. "Wolf, did you organize your inventory files by Army protocols?" he asked, sitting down and giving Wolf an inquisitive look.

"Yes," Wolf answered, "It was already in place when I took over this base; I just catalogued my stuff using the system that was already there. You know, 'work smarter, not harder'. Why? What are you looking for?"

"Just checking something," Fox answered noncommittally. He steered through numerous screens, checking the various readouts. "You have plenty of equipment here for creating a secure uplink. We can use that to our advantage."

"How?" Wolf asked, "We don't have anyone to link to, and we don't have a means for extensive travel. We haven't got a starship, and the Arwings don't have the range to go from planet to planet with any sort of efficiency. And before you mention _my _fighters, don't. We have three Wolfens, and they won't be much use on heavy targets."

"I wasn't suggesting that we use the Wolfens as attack craft," Fox shook his head, "That would be suicide. What I had in mind for the Wolfens was to use them as infiltration craft. We can get in and out of Corneria City without being noticed."

"Why the hell would we want to get _into_ Corneria City?" Falco steamed, "We just got finished nearly getting our butts blown off trying to get _out _of that dump in one piece!"

Fox could understand Falco being a bit reserved about returning to Corneria City. He and Slippy had just had quite an ordeal, after all. Still, Fox knew he'd have to explain the concept, since Falco was likely to be an important instrument out in the field, which meant that the disgruntled falcon would have to eventually return to the capital.

Peppy, obviously ahead of Fox's train of thought, stepped in to explain before Fox could. "Because we can make contact with other resistance groups on Corneria – coordinate our efforts and gather information on what's going on in the inner workings of the Republic." Falco nodded. "And your escape is a perfect cover," Peppy added, "It makes Corneria City the last place the Defense Force will look for you. It's only a matter of time before we're discovered here, especially if we start making waves. The new regime will scour the Lylat System looking for us if we become a big enough thorn in their sides."

"Oh, and we plan to," Wolf grinned evilly.

"Right, but pipe dreams won't get us there," Fox said, "We need a clear plan. The first part of that plan obviously involves making this place into a nerve center."

"After that, the next step is obvious," Wolf said, "We need a starship."

"Right," Fox agreed, "But we can't throw caution to the wind in the meantime. I suggest we set up two running formations to carry out patrols. Since we have the Arwings, let's put them to good use."

"Hold it, Fox," Wolf cut in, "Just hold it. I already see what you're doing. You're trying to take over. This is _my _station and _my _equipment. _I'm_ in charge here."

"Oh, come on, Wolf," Fox huffed, "We don't have time for this. It's your equipment and your station. I know that. But it's mostly _my _team, not to mention my _wife_, that's going to be out there getting shot at. I've got nothing against taking direction from you, but not when it comes to my people."

Wolf gave Fox an angry look, then he finally relented. "All right, Fox," he said sulkily, "You win. But don't expect me to come groveling every time you shoot your mouth off with some 'order'. And I'm only giving in here because we'll never get anything done otherwise."

"Thank you," Fox said. _Honestly, what difference does it make? _Fox mused irritably, _It's not like we're setting up an official chain of command._ "Now, as I was saying," Fox went on, "We should start two Arwing patrols to set up and defend a perimeter around the base. Panther, can you fly an Arwing?"

"Of course," Panther said in a tone which implied that nothing so obvious should need an answer.

"Then you and Falco can take one patrol," Fox nodded. "Slippy, you and Wolf can take the other."

"Now wait just a second, Fox," Wolf griped, "I'm letting you take charge here, but that doesn't mean I'm going to sit some patrol freezing my tail off while you stay in here and bark orders. I draw the line there."

Fox just stared angrily for a few moments, not able to think of anything to say. The tension between the two former rivals was turning thick again, but Fox knew that Wolf wasn't going to back down. Peppy finally stepped in to play the peacemaker.

"Stop it, both of you," Peppy said, "You sound like two boys in a schoolyard scrap. If you only knew how ridiculous it sounds. Wolf, you stay here. I'll go with Slippy."

"Peppy, you really shouldn't," Fox said, not wanting Peppy to be put into harm's way again. Still, Wolf's mind was obviously made up, and the only other alternative was sending Krystal up.

"Son, the day I can't handle a simple patrol is the day I stop breathing," Peppy chuckled, "Don't you worry about me, Fox. I'll be fine."

"I'll take care of him, Fox," Slippy promised.

_Sure you will, Slip, _Fox thought with a bit of humor, _The question is who is going to take care of you._ Turning serious, he said, "Peppy, why don't you and Slippy take the first patrol, then? Panther and Falco will relieve you at 1800 hours. From there, we'll rotate patrol shifts every eight hours. In the meantime, the three of us will be here setting up the command center and trying to tap into the DF's network, with the goal in mind of commandeering the _Pleiades_."

"That's the part I like," Wolf said.

"But before we can get to that, we need connections," Fox went on, settling into the role of firm command. Wolf obviously didn't like it, but Fox was a qualified leader. There will be resistance movements, both on Corneria and elsewhere. We have to find these people. We can gather our common interests and draw strength from the other resistance."

"What then?" Slippy asked.

"Then we take down the so-called Republic," said Fox.


	20. Chapter 20

Star Fox: Regime – a fan fiction by Wolf Reynolds  
"Star Fox" and all related characters and trademarks © Nintendo, Inc.  
Story ©2010 Wolf Reynolds

CHAPTER 20

_North Katina Avenue – Corneria City Commercial District, Planet Corneria (2347 hours CCT)_

Fay ran through the streets, away from the flashing lights of the squad cars of the Cornerian Civil Guard. She was having to get used to being wanted by the law; even running with Star Fox, she had never had a price on her head. She kept her hand near her blaster pistol, hoping she wouldn't have to exchange laser fire with her pursuers. Staying one step ahead of the cops was becoming more and more difficult since Peppy Hare's escape from military custody. The government had certainly tried its best to cover up Peppy's escape, but the resistance had its sources. Very few were happy with the oppressive regime, even among the military. Peppy's escape became a rallying cry of sorts. He had been taken by the military and tortured, but he had revealed nothing to betray his friends and had eventually escaped his captors' grip and left the planet.

Not that any of that did Fay any good at the moment. Since Peppy's escape, the government had tightened its crackdown on mercenaries, malcontents, and other political dissidents. She had no chance of outpacing the squad cars on foot; her only chance was to lose them among the many back alleys of the Commercial District. She saw one narrow alleyway off to the side as she ran – too narrow for a squad car to fit through. Seizing the opportunity, she ducked into the alley and ran. If the cops followed her now, it would be on foot. And no one had ever been able to chase Fay down on foot – not even Falco Lombardi. Fay hid behind a dumpster as the squad cars approached. One of them slowed and eventually stopped, shining its spotlight down the alley. She held her breath and drew her firearm as the spotlight passed over the dumpster. There was nowhere else for her to run, and she knew it, but she was prepared to go down fighting. She had no intention of falling into the hands of those Republic butchers, at least not alive – and her death would only fuel the fire that gave strength to the resistance.

Luck was with her tonight, though. One cop got out of the police cruiser and headed down the alley with his flashlight in one hand and his sidearm in the other. He looked up and down the alley and didn't notice her, and then he came to the dumpster. She held her breath as he circled the dumpster, silently repositioning herself as necessary to avoid detection. Apparently satisfied that she was not there, the policeman headed back to the patrol vehicle. Fay took a breath as silently as she could; she heard the cop tell the other officer in the car, "She's not here." The rest of the speech was muffled, and she only caught parts of it, but they were apparently ready to report their loss to their superiors. _Sorry to ruin your evening, boys_, she thought with relief as the car shut off its spotlight and pursuit lights and drove away. Waiting a few more seconds, Fay was able to breathe again. _That was close_, she mused as she emerged from the alley, cautiously looking in all directions to make sure she wasn't being flushed out. She took the tattered red bow out of her curly white hair, inwardly doubting that doing so would make her less conspicuous but willing to give herself any possible advantage she could consider.

Fay walked northward on Katina Avenue – into the heart of the capital's Commercial District. This part of the city had been hit very hard in the Aparoid attack, but if the Republic had done one thing well, it had restored its big money interests to their former glory in very short order. There was still a bombed-out building here and there, but for the most part, the city had recovered and rebuilt from the attack. Even at the sites of bombed buildings, the rubble had been cleared, leaving only the dilapidated shells of the buildings behind. Fay looked up at the city; the bright shine of the capital made it impossible to see any stars, but the city was beautiful enough in itself. Corneria City was Lylat's capital and largest city; it was the envy of nearby star systems – and no part of Corneria City was more impressive than its Commercial District. Fay took pleasure in the beauty of the city even though it was under the oppressive rule of the Republic. _One day it will be free again_, she told herself, _One day these streets will be filled with cheering crowds instead of soldiers and Civil Guardsmen._ She walked the streets with marked purpose but still took delight in admiring the skyscrapers that towered over her on either side, some of them over three-hundred stories tall. Several buildings displayed news tickers – all of them displaying headlines from the state-sponsored media, of course. One building even had a large LED screen on the façade of its lower floors; the news anchor was currently elaborating on the DRL's latest triumph: the completion of the orbital gate repairs. Corneria was now fully connected to the rest of the Lylat System. _So now they can tighten their grip on everyone else_, Fay thought cynically, _They have Corneria under their thumbs, but they want everyone to bow down._

Fay felt a touch of sadness as she found the building she was seeking. The building was dark – supposedly from abandonment. The stylized "CCNN" letters on the front of the skyscraper didn't glow as they once did. She had made her way to the headquarters of the Cornerian resistance, finding it a somewhat bitter irony that they met in the former headquarters of the Cornerian Central News Network, once known as the voice of the free press throughout Lylat. Within days of the coup, the new regime had censored and shut down the network for its vocalization of the coup's questionable procedure, citing the news network for "inciting potential threats to civil stability." The state media, the Integrated Lylatian Press, did all of its broadcasting from behind the fortress-like protection of the Capitol District.

Going up to the front entrance of the building, Fay pushed open the sliding door; during the better days of the erstwhile Lylat Federation, the door would have slid open under its own power, and she would have been greeted by CCNN's friendly receptionist. Now the building's foyer was dark; the receptionist's desk was covered with dust, and cobwebs decorated the powerless reading lamp that sat off to one side. This wasn't the room Fay was trying to reach, however. She walked over to the elevator and touched four numbers on the keypad – a prearranged security code which would let the resistance know to activate the electrical circuit for the elevator. Within moments, the elevator door opened, and Fay entered. She didn't have to press any buttons on the elevator's control panel; the resistance had already programmed the elevator's procedure. Even though it was a clandestine organization, the resistance had significant resources at its disposal, including the building and all of its potential for automation – an insurance policy against uninvited, Republic-loyal visitors. The door slid shut again, and the elevator began its long ascent to the 98th floor. Fay found it odd that the "underground" should meet on the building's top floor. She would have thought that having the top floor windows lit would make them more conspicuous to the Republic authorities. Fay had been assured that they were quite safe from raids, but she knew that there were other ways to get at the resistance. If the regime decided to demolish the building, Fay knew that raids wouldn't be their problem. She believed in the resistance, though, so she had no choice but to continue her work – no matter the jeopardy in which she might find herself.

The doors slid open as she reached the top floor, and she stepped out of the elevator and into the hallway. She made her way to the meeting room through the brightly-lit hallways; she thought the brightness might have made it seem more like the active broadcast studio it had been, but the absence of activity in the halls made it seem lonely and sterile. She tried to keep her purpose clearly in mind instead of focusing on how depressed the place made her feel. Fay reminded herself of the very important truths behind what she did. This building had always served as a symbol of hope and freedom for the people of Lylat, and to the select few who had involved themselves in the resistance, it still was. She reached the door to the resistance's meeting room, and one member stood on each side of the door, both heavily armed. Upon recognizing Fay, the guard on the left silently motioned with his thumb for her to pass.

The meeting had already begun; Fay's little encounter with the Civil Guard had made her a little late, but the resistance meetings always started on time. To do anything else would be to risk compromise; the members of the resistance, though thoroughly committed to one another, did not want to spend any more time gathered in one place than necessary. It would be more difficult for the Republic to target multiple individuals than one group. For a furtive resistance organization, strength did not lie in numbers – at least not in the same way it did for an army. For a covert group, strength lay in its ability to hide and present no target.

Katt Monroe was at the front of the room. Fay's entrance interrupted the comments she had been making. She didn't seem to mind, though; she was obviously happy to see Fay. "Ah, Fay," she smiled, "Glad you made it. We were beginning to wonder. Did something happen?"

"Yeah," Fay answered, "I met a couple of guys who wanted me to come to their party and they wouldn't take 'no' for an answer." Before Katt was able to ask the inevitable questions, Fay added, "Yes, I lost them. No, I wasn't seen coming here."

"Good," Katt continued casually; incidents like Fay's were nothing extraordinary at these meetings. "We were discussing some good news, actually," Katt said. _So that explains why everyone's all smiles tonight_, Fay thought as she looked around the room. Good news was so rare at these meetings that even a little was often enough to send nearly everyone to cloud nine. Katt went on, "We've just learned through our inside sources that the other two members of the Star Fox team have successfully escaped from the planet, and there've been rumors going around that even Fox McCloud may still be alive." This announcement prompted a ripple of excited murmurs. _Fox alive? _Fay thought in surprise, _Wouldn't __that_ _be a nice kink in the Army's little schemes… _Hoping not to raise everyone's optimism too much, Katt took control once again. "They're only rumors," she explained, quieting everyone, "But they come from the most reliable sources we have. Nobody's sure – the Defense Force is keeping a _very _tight lid on it – but it's possible that the _Cloudrunner_ incident was not accidental."

_What? _Fay thought, _How is that possible? Could even the Republic go that low? _Fay couldn't keep that thought silent. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Are you saying that the Defense Force purposely destroyed a ship carrying three thousand civilians just to get to Fox McCloud?"

"Not _just_ Fox McCloud," Katt explained, "There were several other 'dissidents' –" she spat the word disgustedly, "– aboard the _Cloudrunner_, and they also suspect that Star Wolf might have been involved. It's all very unclear, but very suspicious. One of our priorities is finding out exactly what _did_ happen."

"Were there any survivors?" asked a voice in the crowd.

"Any witnesses?" said another voice.

The room became abuzz with deliberation. Katt held up her hands for order. "Hang on," she said, "That's my point. We really don't know anything. As far as survivors, the official report says that there were no survivors. Bear in mind that this is the same official report that called it an accident. As far as witnesses, let's just say that I doubt any of them will talk. But we're getting ahead of ourselves here. If these rumors about Fox McCloud are true, he _was_ on the _Cloudrunner_, and he _would _be willing to tell us what happened. What we have to do is find out if he _is_ alive and where he is. Since he's on the run from the DF, that's going to be difficult. These two other Star Fox guys that got off of the planet could be our best lead. If we can find out where they are –"

"They're on Fortuna," came a familiar voice from the back of the room. Everyone's head turned as General Pepper and Beltino Toad came into the room, and a collective gasp of surprise rose from the resistance members in attendance. _Well __that__ explains a lot_, Fay thought.

"General, you made it," Katt smiled calmly, "And you were able to get out from under Army surveillance?"

"Yes and no," the general said calmly, "Let's say that our research director's technical abilities had impeccable effects on surveillance cameras throughout the base. I won't be missed for at least six hours; for all intents and purposes, I'm presently in my quarters sleeping."

"Well, you're one of the most convincing somnambulists I've seen in awhile," Katt said. _Somnawho? _Fay blinked in surprise, _My, Katt, your journalism has taught you a lot of big words. Let's just hope your skills don't deteriorate while you can't report the headlines. _Katt turned to address the meeting, "My friends, there is no cause for alarm," she said, "These two distinguished gentlemen are our deep cover operatives." She turned back to General Pepper."You said that the Star Fox team is on Fortuna?" Katt asked, "How do you know?"

"My esteemed colleague is more qualified than I to answer that question," said the general, deferring to Beltino.

"I've been monitoring the unauthorized access into the Lylat Defense Force file indices," Beltino explained, "It's very subtle; there's no spyware program getting in. They've been using backdoor protocols that only I know. The only other person who could gain access that way is my son, who, as you all know, is the main technician of the Star Fox team. It's not traceable through the Army's normal means, but I have other methods. They're in no danger of being found by the Army through their computers, but they do need our help."

"How can we help them?" Fay immediately asked before Katt could get a word in. "You said they were accessing the military's files," she said, "Does that tell us anything other than where they are?"

"Indeed it does," said General Pepper, "At least, we think it does. With your permission, Miss Monroe?"

Katt motioned for him to take the podium. General Pepper walked to the front of the room and stood to address the entire assembly. _All right, General_, Fay thought, _Where are you going with this? Why are you waiting until now to come out of the shadows?_

"First, let me present what we know," the general began, "First, we know that Peppy Hare has successfully escaped from Defense Force custody. Second, we know that Star Wolf is still at large. We recovered the body of Leon Powalski, but Panther Caroso escaped from the Defense Force with members of the Star Fox team. We can only assume from that that Wolf O'Donnell is also still active. Third, while Caroso, Powalski, and the two Star Fox members were fleeing Corneria, several ships left the Sargasso mining outposts and evaded the fleet, meaning that O'Donnell was not alone, even with his other team members still on Corneria. We still don't know for sure whether Fox McCloud is alive or not, but the aforementioned seems to suggest that he is."

"So what are you saying, General?" asked Katt, "I reiterate Fay's question. How can we help them, knowing this?"

"I was just coming to that, Miss Monroe," General Pepper said patiently, "They have been looking through all of the military's files. Before Peppy Hare's escape, the search pattern in their file searches was concentrated almost solely on finding information about him. Shortly after his escape, these searches stopped altogether. From that, we can assume that Peppy made contact with them after his escape. Since then, almost all of their searches and file accesses are related to the Cornerian flagship, the _Pleiades_. My colleague and I," the general nodded in Beltino's direction, "believe that they are planning to either destroy or commandeer the ship. Since they need to stay one step ahead of the military, it would make more sense for them to steal it than to destroy it. We can help them by making sure they succeed."

This statement caused a new buzz of conversation to ripple throughout the room. _So Fox is going after the __Pleiades_, Fay thought with a smile, _Now that __would__ be quite a prize for the Star Fox team, not to mention Star Wolf. _It all made sense to Fay; Star Fox had lost the _Great Fox_ during the Aparoid Incident, and Star Wolf was a band of pirates. Any pirate who could steal the _Pleiades_ would command more fear and respect than any other pirate in the quadrant. The question that still weighed heavily on Fay's mind was why General Pepper was waiting until now to come forward. Up until this point, he had been the enemy – the _leader_ of the opposition. He was the military's chief of staff. Why had he allowed the madness to continue? Katt took the podium again.

"Thank you, General," she said, "What's obviously required now is for one or some of us to go to Fortuna and _find_ these people. There's a lot we have to know from them: where they stand, what they know, what resources they have, and what they're willing to share. I think they have more reason than any of us to desire the downfall of the Republic. They could become the enforcement arm of the resistance with the right tools and the right support."

Fay knew what was next: deciding who needed to go. She was afraid; as a former member of the Star Fox team, Fay herself would have been the most logical choice. She just couldn't do it. Fay wasn't like Miyu or Fara; she had never had anything more than a platonic interest in Fox McCloud, but her time with Star Fox had been dangerous and difficult. She left the team because she wasn't up to the challenge, and she still looked back on that as her deepest personal failure. That was a part of her past that she had run from for years, and she wasn't yet ready to come face to face with it again. With what was being discussed here in the resistance, she knew she would have to face it again eventually, but she wasn't ready yet. She needed time. This was Katt's big chance; Katt knew Falco Lombardi (better, Fay suspected, than she or Falco was willing to admit) and had helped the Star Fox team on more than one occasion. Not waiting until all eyes and pressure were on her, Fay shouted above the discussion. "You should go, Katt," she said.

Fay breathed a sigh of relief; the crowd immediately agreed with her. They all trusted Katt with their lives and knew of her talents and skills as both a pilot and communicator. After very little deliberation, it was agreed that Katt would go to Fortuna (meaning that Fay could stay behind). That gave Fay one less thing to worry about. She still needed to know General Pepper's role in all of this, though. One thing Fay had learned through all of her failures and successes was that she had to take the initiative. When the meeting ended, she stopped General Pepper in the hall.

"General, could I speak with you a moment?" she said.

"Certainly, Fay," he said. He still seemed to be the warm and caring commander that she had always known. Why had he stood idle when he could have prevented all of this?

"General, I – " she started to speak, but she didn't even know where to begin.

"You want to know why I let all of this happen and why I didn't help Fox," he said. He apparently understood more than Fay realized. She couldn't even speak; all she could manage was a nod. The general sighed, looking very old all of a sudden. "What you have to understand, Fay, is that the coup was completely beyond my control," he said, "There's nothing I could have done to stop it. I didn't ask to be put in this position, but I had very little choice in the matter."

"Couldn't you have just declined the promotion?" she asked, not sure whether she was angry with him or just frustrated in general.

"Yes, I could have," General Pepper admitted, "But to what purpose? I would have been on the outside, in the same position as all of you. I might have accomplished something there, but I knew as soon as it happened that if things were ever going to change, you would need someone loyal to you on the inside – as close to the top as possible. Even as Chief of Staff, I have very little direct control over the military mandates; most of the orders come from higher up, and they go directly through to the regional commanders. The Premiere and the other leading Party members are bypassing me as much as they can – my appointment was to pacify the crowd, for what good it did. I have almost no control. Even if I did, I have to appear loyal to the Republic. Not doing so could jeopardize everything when I'm needed most. I didn't know about the _Cloudrunner_ until after it happened. If I had, I would have stopped it. If Fox McCloud is as I know him to be, he no longer trusts me and would likely kill me if he had the chance. Maybe that's no less than I deserve. But if I had gone directly to Fox – if I had even _tried_ to help him – I would be suspect, and subsequently useless to the resistance. Now that they are safely off world, hopefully we can rectify the misunderstanding. Even if not, I'll continue to do everything I can. Now do you understand? Do you believe me, Fay?"

_Do I? _she thought in a panic, _He answered me. It makes sense. He's never lied before._ That was what she told him. "You've never lied to me," she finally answered.

"And I'm not now," he said warmly, "It's time to make all of this right again."


	21. Chapter 21

Star Fox: Regime – a fan fiction by Wolf Reynolds  
"Star Fox" and all related characters and trademarks © Nintendo, Inc.  
Story ©2010 Wolf Reynolds

CHAPTER 21

_DF Auxiliary Air Station #204 (defunct) – Zone Six, Planet Fortuna (1033 hours CCT, 2233 hours local time)_

Fox sat in his chair at one of the computer terminals in the abandoned airbase. Since he and his fellow survivors (as they could now accurately be described) had settled here at the old Defense Force base, they'd finally been able to relax a little. They always had at least one person alert in order to protect themselves from being caught unawares, but for the most part, they'd finally been able to catch up on some much-needed sleep. Right now, it was the middle of the Fortunese night, and everyone else was asleep (except for Falco and Panther, who were out on patrol). He had drawn the short straw, so he stayed awake to keep an eye on the state of things. He didn't mind, though; he was able to continue his search for information about the _Pleiades_ without interruptions. Besides, he was a bundle of nervous energy and needed the chance to expend it.

Fox got up from his chair and walked to the window. The snowstorm had finally broken, so the night was clear and cold. Fox looked into the clear night sky. There were no cities nearby, and most of the windows in the base were covered; there was no light to distract from the view of the glittering sky. The stars twinkled through the frigid air. Just over the horizon, filling a large portion of the darkened firmament, was Fortuna's sister planet, Fichina. Fichina was the other half of the Binary; in addition to orbiting the Lylat Star, the two similar-sized planets also orbited each other, each acting as the other's natural satellite. Although both planets supported modest populations, neither was of great interest to the military since the Androssian Uprising. Because both planets were on the edge of the Lylat System's Habitable Orbit Zone, most of their populations were concentrated near the equators. Both planets were mostly covered in ice (though Fortuna did support a non-tropical rainforest in its narrow temperate zone), but Fichina, with its thinner atmosphere, was the colder of the two planets. In spite of this fact, Fichina was more densely inhabited due to its natural resources – this was made possible by the Climate Control Center, one of Beltino Toad's most celebrated accomplishments.

What this meant, however, was that Fortuna was mostly left alone in its own lonely corner of the Lylat System. Because Fortuna was of little strategic interest, it was more or less ignored by the Defense Force. Most of the few bases that _did _exist on the planet (like the one that Fox and the others now occupied) had been abandoned since the Uprising. This was fortunate for Fox and his friends, because it made the Binary the perfect place to hide. Air Station 204 was a starting point, but even if the Republic found them there, there were many other places on both Fortuna and Fichina where they could hide. Fichina shone like a gem as its dark side began to turn towards Fortuna, the lights of Fichina City shimmering through its icy atmosphere.

Fox knew they couldn't stay here forever. He sighed as he returned to his chair. Eventually, they would have to go back to Corneria. Oh, they could hide here for years and likely never be found, but the Republic would continue to tighten its grip on the rest of the system. Fox wanted to build his life with Krystal – he wanted to settle down and raise a family. He didn't want to live the rest of his life as a fugitive waiting to run into one of the Republic's assassins behind every corner. He didn't want that for himself, and he especially didn't want that for his family. He also didn't want that for the hundreds (or possibly thousands) of other innocents who were in the same situation simply because they were against the totalitarianism of an oppressive government. The Republic needed to be brought down. Fox and his companions had likely more power to take action than anyone else, which meant they bore that responsibility.

For now, they were safe. However, they could not in clear conscience _remain_ safe forever. They would eventually have to make a stand. The first step towards being able to make that stand was in acquiring a ship. Fox returned to his terminal and went back into the Defense Force system using Beltino's secret code key. He pored over every document he could find relating to the _L.R.S. Pleiades_. Blueprints, technical drawings, diagrams, operational statistics – he tried to become a part of the ship. Since Peppy's escape from Republic custody, Fox had learned the _Pleiades_ so well that he could probably have made his way through every deck, cabin, compartment, and supply closet while blindfolded. He didn't understand all of the technical specifications, but he wasn't an engineer; that was Slippy's job. Another thing Fox had learned since the Androssian Uprising was that his teammates knew their functions – Fox just had to let them do their jobs.

Right as that thought crossed his mind, he heard Falco over the radio. "Two-Zero-Four, Spot-Flight two-three-niner," Falco said, signaling his intention to make contact with Fox. Even though the base was abandoned, Fox and the others had set up a prearranged series of coded ATC messages. Anyone in the local airspace who might happen to intercept their communications would assume that they were just routine air traffic control signals, when they were in fact important messages. Falco wouldn't have contacted Fox at all unless something out of the ordinary had happened.

"Two-three-niner, go ahead," Fox answered.

"Two-three-niner with you, five thousand, traffic in sight," Falco said, "Request clearance to transition Charlie airspace." Normally, this message would have meant that Falco had seen approaching air traffic and was requesting permission to ascend beyond the normal barriers of visual flight rules. What Falco was really saying, though, was that he had been contacted by an unidentified aircraft and was requesting permission to break radio silence and investigate (and pursue if necessary). _Who could possibly know we're here? _Fox wondered.

He responded first by granting permission for Falco and Panther to investigate. "Two-three-niner is cleared through the Charlie airspace," he said.

"Cleared through the Charlie airspace, Spot-Flight two-three-niner," Falco confirmed.

"Spot-Flight two-three-niner, traffic is two o'clock, three-point-two kilometers at one-zero thousand, Air Lylat; report them in sight," Fox instructed. The bearing, distance, and altitude Fox had given were fictional, of course. Normally, Fox's message would have been to warn a pilot to watch for nearby traffic. What Fox was actually doing through code, however, was asking Falco a question as to the identity of the unknown radio contact; Air Lylat was a real airline, but Fox and Falco both knew that Fox actually meant "Defense Force" when he said "Air Lylat". Fox was asking Falco if his unknown contact was from the Defense Force.

Fox was relieved when Falco gave a negative response. "Two-three-niner, traffic not in sight."

"Spot-Flight two-three-niner, switch to Center on one-two-four-point-five," Fox said. This would have simply indicated a frequency change to someone listening, but to Falco, it signaled Fox's instruction to break communication with him, carry on, and report as necessary.

"Switching to Center on one-two-four-point-five, Spot-Flight two-three-niner, g'day," Falco answered. In other words, "received and understood." The radio went silent. The relaxed mood that Fox had felt up until now disappeared, and he became anxious. Nobody was supposed to know they were here, and even though Falco had reported that the other contact was not with the Republic, that didn't mean that they were safe. No one, Army or otherwise, had any reason to enter this airspace. Fox got up from his computer and walked over towards the window again; there was a radar plot there (this _was _the station's control tower, after all) which Slippy had managed to get working. Sure enough, there were three aircraft appearing on the plot. Two of those aircraft would be the ships piloted by Falco and Panther, leaving the unidentified aircraft that had contacted them. The third ship wasn't transmitting a military identification code – in fact, its transponder seemed to be altogether inoperative. Whether that was intentional or due to a malfunction, Fox couldn't say, but Falco and Panther were closing fast on the unknown craft. Fox wasn't worried; Falco and Panther could handle things. He had flown beside Falco and against Panther – both were excellent pilots and fierce fighters. All Fox could do was wait for Falco to discover the identity of the unknown craft.

_Northern Ice Field, Planet Fortuna - __62°34'57'' N, 22°13'58'' W (58km northeast of AAS 204) – six minutes later_

Falco squinted through the canopy of his Arwing. He didn't understand the Fortunese weather; the snowstorm had been very bad back at the base, then the weather cleared completely just before he and Panther started their patrol, and now the storm was back in its full fury. Apparently, the storm had formed into a series of squall lines. The visibility was so poor that he could barely see Panther's ship, which was just off his starboard wing. The unidentified craft that he and Panther were trying to intercept was close; Falco's radar indicated it less than three kilometers away, and when Falco squinted very hard, he thought he could make out the other craft's flashing strobe.

Falco maintained the ruse that he and Panther had started and contacted the other pilot again. His first attempt had gotten no response, but that could have easily been because of his ship-to-ship radio's limited range. "Unidentified aircraft, you are entering restricted airspace," he said, sounding as military as possible, "Reduce speed to two-two-zero knots now. Do not deviate from your present course or we will be forced to open fire. Respond now."

There was a long burst of static, followed by a familiar female voice. "Really, Falco," the other pilot said, "Is that any way to treat a lady? What happened to you? Did you run off and enlist behind our backs?"

"Okay, Katt," Falco grunted, not amused, "What are you doing here, and how in the _bloody hell_ did you find us?"

"Oh, don't you worry about that, sweetie," she said. Falco put his face in his palm. "Your secret's safe with me, boys," Katt went on, "My lips are sealed. I thought you always flew solo, Falco. Who's your friend?"

_Oh, great. _Falco thought, _Panther is going to __love__ her. Wait a second_ – Falco had a delightful epiphany – _Maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing. If he goes after Katt, maybe she'll leave me alone. Not to mention the fact that he'll keep his paws off Fox's wife…_

Before Falco could make the introduction, Panther cut him off. "I am Panther Caroso," the over-amorous cat replied, "To whom does that lovely voice belong?" _Oh, __this__ ought to be good… _Falco thought with a wry smile.

"Well," Katt's voice answered, "It's nice to see that _someone_ is capable of being a gentleman. The name's Katt – Katt Monroe."

"Un placer conocerte, mi querida," Panther answered. _Oh, brother… _Falco shook his head and rolled his eyes. Panther's next transmission did little to alleviate the bird's cynicism. "I've heard quite a lot about you. Tell me, my dear, is there a _Señor _Monroe?"

"Excuse me, Romeo," Falco cut off their conversation, "But we have more important things to worry about at the moment. What are you doing here, Katt?"

"This isn't exactly the best time or place to explain," Katt said, serious once again, "I know all about the abandoned airbase. Let's get on the ground and get inside where it's nice and warm, then we'll talk. Just answer me one thing – is Fox McCloud still alive?"

No sense in hiding the fact. She obviously knew everything else, and she didn't seem to mean them any harm. "I was just getting ready to contact him," Falco answered reluctantly, "Set your NAV-1 frequency for one-one-seven-point-five megahertz. I'll tell Fox to put the base in landing mode. You stay quiet – we're using code."

"Roger, will-co," Katt said, "I'll follow you. _Cat's Paw_ out." The transmission ended and Falco found himself in an agitated huff. Oddly enough, he wasn't anxious about seeing Katt again; he was more nervous about how she had found them and how she seemed to know the situation so well. Then, of course, there was Panther making a fool of himself. "You talk too much, Panther," he said into his radio, "One of these days, it's going to get us all killed."

"No more dangerous than your insane flying, amigo," Panther chuckled back, "You going to contact McCloud or sit there jabbering about my jabbering?"

"Right," Falco huffed. He switched his radio frequency to contact the base and called for Fox, "Two-Zero-Four Tower, Spot-Flight two-three-niner is five-four kilometers northeast, three aircraft, inbound ILS Runway two-two, to land." Falco chose his code words very carefully. He had given the basic ATC message requesting permission to perform an instrument landing, but he had been careful to note that there were _three_ aircraft, indicating that he and Panther had successfully met the other craft and had determined there was no threat. They'd have to use the runway; trying to land using the VTOL system in this wind would be suicide. Even the traditional runway landing was going to be difficult enough.

Although Fox responded with a by-rote traffic instruction, Falco thought he could detect just the faintest hint of surprise in Fox's voice. "Spot-Flight two-three-niner, fly straight in, Runway two-two," Fox said, meaning that he had understood Falco's message. Now he only had to give routine vectors to their final approach; his next message meant to Falco exactly what it would mean to any other pilot. "Turn left to heading two-two-zero; descend to one thousand meters and reduce speed to one-eight-zero knots. Maintain one thousand until established on the localizer."

From here was routine; Falco merely responded to Fox as he would have responded to any other air traffic controller if he had been a commercial pilot. "Come left to two-two-zero, descend and maintain one thousand, and reduce speed to one-eight-zero. Spot-Flight two-three-niner," Falco repeated the instructions to Fox, per standard operating procedure. He then switched his radio over to the ship-to-ship frequency. "Panther, Katt," he said, "Did you copy the landing instructions?"

After both pilots gave affirmative responses, Falco returned to radio silence, switching his radio back to the base's frequency. Fox had given them landing instructions, so the challenge now was finding the runway through this soup. Falco switched on his landing lights, forming two neat cones of light that illuminated the fog and swirling snow in front of the Arwing. He noticed Panther and Katt switch on their own lights as the ships descended beneath three thousand meters. They reached a thousand meters and leveled off, but they might as well have still been at their cruising altitude; the visibility was no better here. The fog must have gone clear down to the deck. Apparently this second wave of the snowstorm _had _already reached the base.

The approach went more quickly than Falco thought it would have, though. Before he knew it, he was able to make out the blinking guides lights of the runway, and his navigational pointer swung around his instrument panel. Falco lowered his landing gear and began to descend for his final approach, barely able to see. _This is __not__ going to be easy… _he thought unsteadily. As he drew closer to the runway, he heard Fox over the radio again. "Spot-Flight two-three-niner, cleared to land Runway two-two. Wind two-two-four at two-one knots." _Well, _Falco thought with relief even as his ship bounced in the turbulence, _At least we don't have to go for a crosswind landing in this infernal mess._

He just repeated the instructions instead of voicing his thoughts, "Cleared to land Runway two-two, Spot-Flight two-three-niner." The radio went silent again, and Falco adjusted his hold on the flight yoke to get a firmer grip, all the while fighting the turbulence and making minor adjustments to keep his aircraft lined up with the barely-visible runway. Despite the poor visibility and the turbulence, the landing was as clean as any Falco had ever made. As the three ships slowed to an eventual halt at the end of the slick runway, it was clear to Falco that the other two had had equally uneventful landings.

He contacted Panther and Katt again (though his message was really directed at Katt). "Follow me on the taxi," he said, "We'll stow your ship in Hangar 18." At this point, Falco was so tired that he didn't even care if she acknowledged him or not. She did roger his transmission and follow him onto the taxiway. Falco sighed and yawned as he steered his aircraft back to the hangar. After exiting the runway, Falco and Katt turned right towards the hangar. Panther, on the other hand, turned left – back towards the end of the runway.

"Someone should stay out there on station," Panther said to Falco, "There could still be enemies out there, no? Just have them send someone – preferably someone who'll be a bit livelier company. I want a _talkative_ wingman this time."

Falco chuckled. He didn't think that he and Panther would get along at all, but for all of their obvious animosity, they had developed a sort of camaraderie. At least Falco knew that he could count on Panther not to shoot him down when he least expected it, and he suspected Panther knew the reverse was also true. Panther had just done him a huge favor by going back out on patrol. Falco had been on station all afternoon and well into the night, he hadn't eaten, and he had just become reacquainted with someone he would have preferred to not see again – the memory was too painful. He was tired, hungry, and discouraged, and he doubted his night would be over for some time. "Right," he finally replied to his teammate's transmission, "Someone'll be joining you as soon as possible. Good luck out there, Panther."

As Falco entered the hangar, Katt taxied the _Cat's Paw_ in behind him. If Falco had been a little dozy, he was quickly thrown wide awake by the blast of frigid air that hit him as soon as he opened his canopy. Fox was already there to meet them; he gave Falco a pat on the shoulder and went straight towards Katt. Secretly, Falco was glad that Fox had basically ignored him; it meant that he would get right to business with Katt and leave no room for idle chitchat. Fox, at least, was sensitive of Falco's mysterious past even if no one else was. As Fox and Katt walked back towards the control room, Falco walked around his Arwing and performed the routine after-landing checks. He hadn't even noticed Slippy standing there.

"Wow, Falco," Slippy said, causing Falco to turn around, "You really look beat. Why don't you go get some sleep? I'll take care of the checks; I'll be taking her back out to join the patrol in a few minutes anyway."

Falco yawned and put his hand on Slippy's shoulder. "Thanks, Slip," he said, "I'm dead on my feet. Panther's already out there. Don't let him push you around."

Slippy smiled and said, "Good night, Falco."

"Good night, Slippy," Falco answered. Falco left the hangar and stood out in the hall for a few moments. Wolf was standing there. He had apparently seen Fox leave with Katt.

"Long day, huh?" Wolf said casually, "I wonder what that's all about. Bet she's with the Cornerian resistance."

Falco didn't really care, but it was a thought that hadn't occurred to him. "Could be," he shrugged.

Wolf pulled a cigarette out of his shirt pocket and put it to his mouth. "You got a light?" he asked Falco.

Falco pulled out a lighter and handed it to Wolf. "Here," Falco said, "I don't need it."

"You sure?" Wolf asked, offering Falco a smoke, "Plenty to spare."

"Nah, I quit," Falco waved him off, "Thanks, though. So what are you up to down here?"

"Just wanted to see what the excitement was all about, that's all," Wolf answered. Even after all the time they had been working together, Falco still wasn't entirely sure he trusted Wolf. Then again, there were very few (if any) people who Falco _did _fully trust. At the moment, Wolf's word was as good as anyone's. Wolf lit up and just stood for a few moments, not saying anything. Finally, he tossed his cigarette butt into a nearby ashcan and walked away with a simple (but, Falco thought, sincere) wish of, "G'night."

Falco debated with himself over whether he should follow Wolf to the control room where Fox and Katt were or if he should just go to bed. Eventually, his fatigue won the battle. Falco headed for his quarters without a second thought of Katt and the others. He would deal with _that _particular matter when he was fully awake. In truth, he was so tired that he wasn't sure he even _cared_ what Katt was doing there in their frozen sanctuary.


	22. Chapter 22

Star Fox: Regime – a fan fiction by Wolf Reynolds  
"Star Fox" and all related characters and trademarks © Nintendo, Inc.  
Story ©2011 Wolf Reynolds

CHAPTER 22

_DF Auxiliary Air Station #204 (defunct) – Zone Six, Planet Fortuna (1147 hours CCT, 2347 hours local time)_

Fox couldn't believe his eyes as Katt Monroe entered the room. She carried herself with the presence of someone who had been pushed around by the establishment and then pushed back. He noticed Wolf eyeing the attractive feline as he entered the room a moment later and headed to the control station, where he put on the ATC headset. Someone had to be there for Panther and Slippy, after all. Part of Fox wondered why Falco was nowhere to be seen, but another part of him was surprised that Falco wasn't trying to flap his way back to Corneria. Fox was one of the few people who knew all about Falco and Katt; he didn't talk about it because that would have betrayed Falco's trust in him. The relationship between Falco and Katt had been turbulent and exciting – a veritable roller coaster ride. With everything that had been going on lately, Fox couldn't blame Falco for not wanting to expose himself to that anymore. They all had enough trouble without throwing a rocky relationship into the mix. Fox didn't want to put Falco into an awkward position, and he was fairly certain that Katt didn't either.

Fox found Katt more handsome than pretty – a fair-figured fighter whose strong personality had been tempered by her endeavors in both the mercenary and journalist theaters. She was apparently as surprised to see him as he was to see her.

"Katt," Fox started out, "I never thought I'd see you again."

"Ditto," Katt chuckled, "It was all over the news that you'd been killed when that starliner exploded. How've you been?"

"Well, considering the circumstances…" Fox shrugged with a sidelong glance at Wolf.

"Yeah, you're right," Katt smiled, "Dumb question. So," she looked at Krystal and then back at Fox, "I heard you got married?"

"Yes," Fox took Krystal's hand. "This is Krystal," he said.

"You've got yourself quite a catch, Krystal," Katt said, shaking Krystal's free hand, "This one used to be quite the ladies' man." She caught the beginnings of a dirty look from both Fox and Krystal and quickly bailed herself out, "Oh, don't you worry, honey. I got the whole scoop from Bill and Fara. Not that I need it; I can tell by looking that Fox's roaming days are over."

"Umm… Katt…" Fox tacitly cued Katt to change the subject.

"Oh, don't blush, Fox McCloud," Katt said, "You know I'm just a chatterbox and don't mean anything by it."

"Yes, I know," Fox shrugged, "But as glad as I am to see you, I'm curious as to what you're doing here and how you found us. Falco didn't bother to come up here and report."

"That's just as well," said Katt, "Because I didn't tell him. Over the radio in the middle of a snowstorm isn't exactly the best time or place. Besides, he was being rude, as usual."

"Well, you know Falco," Fox answered, "I take it you're with the resistance? Because if you're with the Army, I'd have to shoot you."

"Tsk tsk," Katt shook her head, "Don't any of you know any manners? That new dreamboat flier of yours knows how to treat a lady, at least."

Fox gave Wolf a questioning glance. Wolf looked right back and said, "That would _have_ to be Panther."

Katt gave Fox a dreamy look, then turned serious. "You're good, though, Fox. I am with the resistance," she said, then looked over at the nearby settee that sat away from the computers. "Maybe we'd better sit," she said, walking over and taking a seat, "This could take awhile."

Fox and Krystal sat together across from Katt on the U-shaped settee. Katt then recounted the entire tale of how she had come to be a part of the Cornerian resistance and how she had made it to Fortuna – including General Pepper's role, which caused Fox to erupt in a stream of questions, most of which Katt was unable to answer. Fox was cut very deeply by General Pepper's hand in everything, but in some ways, he was quite relieved to find out that his old mentor had secretly not betrayed them all. His trust had been quite shaken, and even with Katt's revelation, Fox was still not entirely sure who to trust where the Defense Force was concerned. One thing that caught everyone by surprise was how much the resistance knew of their plans. They had gained some knowledge through Beltino's substantial technological capabilities, but Fox was impressed by how much the resistance had been able to infer from what limited information Beltino was able to provide. Fox was still troubled by General Pepper's inaction that had put Fox and everyone else in danger. Deep inside himself, he was glad to know that General Pepper was on their side, but his trust in the general was shaken. Fox dismissed the mistrust as childishness; he inwardly knew that his mentor had not had any choice. Oh, General Pepper could have resigned after the coup and thrown himself into the trenches with the rest of them, but his patience (which Fox knew must have nearly killed him) had put him in the unique position to aid the resistance in a way that no one else could. As Chief of Staff, however much the Republic would try to circumvent his authority, General Pepper had access to very sensitive information – computer code keys, IPBM launch codes, and other top secret information. What Beltino and the general knew about the _Pleiades_ was going to be critical for their upcoming operations.

What neither Fox nor anyone in the resistance knew was where Bill Grey stood. He was obviously loyal to the Republic; he had just been promoted and had been given command of a key Armada task group. On the other hand, Bill had sent only three ships after them during the Sargasso engagement; he could have just as easily sent a hundred. And as far as he could tell, the task force had made no effort to pursue them. Bill's stance was going to matter a great deal when Fox and his comrades were finally ready to make their move on the _Pleiades_. If Bill chose to stand with them, they could score a major coup against the Republic without firing a shot. If Bill stood against them, though, things could be very problematic. If the scenario came down to a confrontation between Fox and Bill, Fox was not sure he had the will to kill his childhood friend, even for the sake of everything that would ride on that decision.

Therein was the most immediate problem faced by the resistance and the Star Fox team. If they were to have any hope of forging a system-wide resistance movement from the fractured underground organizations throughout the Lylat System, they would need the _Pleiades_. Without a starship, which could serve as a nerve center, a mobile supply depot, and essentially a moving fortress, any organized movement they managed to scrape together would quickly fall apart. No one within the existing force had access to a suitable spacecraft, which was where Fox and his comrades became so important.

"Fox?" Katt broke Fox out of his thoughts.

"Huh?" he said with an absent glance in Katt's general direction.

"I can smell the smoke coming out of your ears from here," she joked, "It's not hard to tell when the wheels are turning in that nimble mind of yours. Are you already cooking up a caper to go after the starship?"

"I can't say that I am yet," Fox answered dejectedly, "There are still too many unknowns. If only I could contact General Pepper and Beltino openly. If I had access to their inside resources, I'd have more idea where to go with this."

"I'm afraid I can't help you there," Katt shook her head, "Both of them risk life and limb just making it to the occasional meeting. We have access to some other contacts in the Lylatian military, though. We have a considerably extensive intelligence network, Fox – more extensive than the Army gives us credit for, I daresay. What we need here is to set up a chain of communication so that you have access to all of our information. We've managed to obtain some rather sensitive information about the _Pleiades_ – I'd even say that what we have is probably more useful than a lot of what you've managed to get your hands on. Between our two groups, we have more than enough information to get you at least _working_ on a plan even if not putting it in motion yet."

"What do you mean?" Fox said, "All we've managed to get our hands on is technical schematics of the ship. That'll be important when we actually go to steal the ship, but it doesn't help us in the pre-planning stages. We have no idea where the ship will make port at any particular point in time. Or are you suggesting that we hijack it _in_ outer space?" Fox raised his eyebrow, half expecting Katt to suggest just such a mad scheme.

"Good heavens, Fox," she surprised him, "None of you are worth anything dead. That kind of mission would be suicide. No. But we _do _have access to information of a kind that isn't in the databases you've been able to access – duty rosters, mission briefs, order logs, things like that."

"Well, what can you tell me?" Fox asked.

"Hold on a minute, Fox," she laughed, "It's not _quite_ that simple. We try to keep our files separated in case one of us gets caught. Other members of the resistance have access to that; it isn't as if I keep those sort of things floating around in my head. I don't even see most of it; as a senior resistance leader, I'm more responsible for keeping the meetings in order and making the most important contacts. Believe me, my hands are full with that. I don't have the time to devote to learning information related to specific operations. They don't tell me everything, and that's prudent. If something happens to me, I don't want to compromise the rest of the resistance."

"What does all of this gain us, then?" Krystal spoke up despondently, "We don't really know anything more now than when we started except that there _is_ a resistance, which we suspected already, and that General Pepper isn't unfriendly to our cause."

"You know that we do have what you need," Katt answered.

"Then the first step," Fox said, "Is getting our database to interact with the one the resistance uses. How do we do that?"

"With this," Katt replied, pulling a small silicon disk from the right breast pocket of her flight suit, "This disk contains all of the access codes to the resistance's computer network." She handed him the disk. "I don't have to tell you how secret that disk is," she said, concern in her voice, "Beltino himself provided us with that. The resistance is trusting you – _I _am trusting you – to use it well. With the codes on that disk, you can essentially bypass all of the safeguards for the Defense Force's classified information. If the Republic gets their hands on that disk, Fox, the resistance is finished, and so are Beltino and General Pepper. We're all taking a great risk entrusting that to you."

"I won't let you down, Katt," Fox said, determined, "I plan to use this. If the Army closes in on us, I'll destroy it."

"A wise choice," Katt said, "We cannot – can _not_ – risk the compromise of that information. I can't stress that enough, Fox."

"It will be safe with us," Fox said, "You have my word."

"I know, Fox," Katt smiled, "I wouldn't have brought it here otherwise."

Katt stood up to go. "Where are you going?" Fox asked.

"I have other contacts to make on Fichina," she answered, "Some contacts in the Army. Big stuff."

"You just got here," Krystal said, "We've got an all-but-empty barracks here. Don't you want to stay and freshen up a bit?"

"Well, I _want_ to," Katt smiled emphatically, "But I'm a slave to the schedule. I'm on a very strict timetable. Our meetings are set up to be precise to within seconds. If I'm late, people could get killed."

"Then we won't hold you up any longer," Fox said, standing out of courtesy, "You've given us something to shoot for. How would we contact the resistance with our plans?"

They walked into the corridor and headed back down to the hangar as they talked. "File exchange, Fox. The codes on that disk give you access to our database. You also have the ability to add files to that database – including message files. Our systems are monitored at all times, so someone will see your message as soon as you send it."

"That's all I need to know," Fox said, "You have your job, and we have ours."

"That's right," Katt nodded, "I wish I had more time to stay and chat, but we're on a pretty tight itinerary here. Don't you worry, guys. We'll be in touch."

As the group reached the hangar, Katt gave Fox a warm hug (perhaps warmer, in fact, than appropriate in Krystal's presence – but then, it _was _Katt; Fox had never known a male that she hadn't been flirtatious with) and pushed the button to open the door. "You know, Fox, this mad mercenary business we're in," she sighed with a dry smile, "One of these days, it's going to blow up in our faces. Might be today."

"Well, not much we can do about it except take it as it comes," Fox shrugged.

Katt smiled again and said, "You're right, as always. I guess we just have to do things one day at a time." Katt's wristwatch beeped, reminding her again of her strict schedule. "Or one hour at a time in our case, I guess. Let us know when you're ready for us to make a move – but don't make it too long. Some of our boys have itchy trigger fingers, and I wouldn't put it past a few of them to jump into some foolish heroics and muck it all up."

"We'll let you know, Katt," Fox said, "Tell… General Pepper… I don't, uh… I don't blame him for anything. I know he did what he had to do. Tell them we're all well."

"I'll do that. He'll be happy to know. I have to go, but I'll be back at some point. Let us know what supplies you might need, and maybe we can get our hands on them," she began walking towards her spacecraft, then she turned around and grinned, "And tell Falco I'm not letting him off the hook so easily next time. Good luck, Fox."

"Hold on to that luck, Katt," Fox waved at her, "Right now, you need it more than we do."

"Hopefully there's enough to spread around," Katt waved back, "We all could use a little right now."


	23. Chapter 23

Star Fox: Regime – a fan fiction by Wolf Reynolds  
"Star Fox" and all related characters and trademarks © Nintendo, Inc.  
Story ©2011 Wolf Reynolds

**AUTHOR'S NOTE - IMPORTANT**

This chapter was originally part of Chapter 22, but the combination made it a little too long, so I made it a separate chapter. This chapter is _substantially_ darker than most of the other stuff I've uploaded to this point. There are some elements which are quite a bit more thematic than the rest of the story so far, but there's still nothing explicit. This would still not get an R rating I don't think, but it's closer than I've come before this point. I'm leaving the rating at T for right now because I don't think it needs an M rating. If you feel differently, the _please message me_ and I will change it - please don't flame it. If you don't like it, I will respect the consensus of my audience. That's all I need to say.**  
**

CHAPTER 23

_North Duncan Street - Norantrova, Planet Macbeth. (1854 hours CCT, 0154 hours local time)_

The city of Norantrova, like much of the planet Macbeth, was dingy and bleak. Because of the planet's almost-flat continents and shallow seas, centuries' worth of industrial interests had chosen Macbeth as their production site. Norantrova was only a little smaller than Corneria City in size and population, but that was where the similarity ended. Acrid smoke from manufactories filled the air, tainting all of the buildings a dull and dirty grey. No stars were visible through the polluted sky, and even the lights from the upper floors of the skyscrapers gave off only a sickly glow, choked by the low-hanging smog. Norantrova was not a popular vacation spot among Lylatians; it served its purpose, but most Lylatians (except those who couldn't afford to live or work elsewhere) were content to ignore it.

This was a truly hostile city; the police were competent, but they were scattered and often oppressive even before the fall of the Federation. The life of the average citizen in this city changed very little during the coup. Many of its citizens probably weren't even aware of the coup; their lives were not occupied by politics or economics – theirs was a full-time matter of survival.

Miyu was no exception; she had a purpose here, but survival instinct underscored every move she made. She put her right hand under her jacket on her left side, checking to make sure her sidearm was still within easy reach. She coughed. _I didn't realize this place was so bad,_ she thought, coughing again, _I can't even blame this on the Republic._ She was focused on a single goal: make contact with the resistance. If there was any way to find out where Fox had gone, the resistance would know. Before she could get anything from the resistance or even make contact, she had to find it first. Norantrova was one of the largest cities in the Lylat System, which meant two things. First, it meant that there _would _be a chapter of the resistance here. Second, it meant that the resistance had plenty of places to hide and plenty of legitimate façades behind which it could disguise itself.

One thing that Miyu knew she had to do was keep a low profile. Right now, she was fairly certain that the military would have her listed as "Missing in Action" or possibly even dead, but she knew that would only last until she made her presence known; after that, she was no longer a dead hero but a live deserter – and she suspected that the Republic looked on desertion even less favorably than the Federation had. She had several things working against her, not the least of which was the fact that she had never been to Norantrova before. Oh, she'd grown up in one of Corneria City's seedier districts and she had some experience with life on tough streets, but from the stories she'd heard from ex-Norantrovans, this city was quite a bit different from Corneria.

She was also wearing a Defense Force uniform, which would be quite conspicuous, despite how dirty and unrecognizable she'd tried to make it. She'd have left it behind, but she had nothing else to wear for the moment. That was one of the first orders of business. Miyu walked into one of the rougher-looking pubs on one side of the street. As much as she might have despised it, places like these were the best places to find information. She knew it wouldn't be as simple as walking up to some random stranger and asking where the resistance was. If the police hadn't found her, then it was certain that no one was going to tell someone wearing a Navy uniform. On the other hand, she had a slight advantage in that the city was not driven by upper-level politics like Corneria City was. She had a good supply of valuable machinery on her ship that she could trade for cash and information – without rendering her only means of escape useless, of course. She wasn't prepared to give up her hard-won spaceship; that was her biggest bargaining chip, both with the resistance and with Fox.

Truth be told, though, Miyu was prepared to do just about anything short of selling her ship in order to achieve her goal, however distasteful. She saw an empty spot at the bar and seized the opportunity to take a seat. Wiping down the bar was a tough-looking barkeep who looked like he'd seen his share of Norantrova's rough side. The canine bartender's face was scarred and twisted into a perpetual frown. He obviously hated his job, but her jagged face seemed to dare someone to say something about it.

Miyu played it cool; she just sat and hung her head slightly, looking down at the bar and running her finger over it thoughtfully. She sat for a few moments, but the bartender didn't seem to notice her. _So_, Miyu thought, _the wait to be waited on approach isn't going to work._ She had to try something else. Still playing it cool, she spoke up over the dull murmur of drunken voices to address the barkeeper. "Long day, huh?" she asked. The bartender answered with a huff and began cleaning a glass. Miyu tried to stay subtle. "They keeping you busy?"

The bartender agitatedly set the glass down. "Look," he said irritably, "I don't care to chat with Army rabble – noisy bunch don't pay their tabs half the time. It's almost time for last call. You want something or not?"

_I'm Navy, you twit,_ Miyu thought. But she pasted a smile on her face and said, "Scotch and soda." _And light on the water,_ Miyu mused in afterthought, _It's probably contaminated. _The bartender just mixed the drink and handed it to her. "Actually, I was hoping you could give me some information," Miyu said proactively. _Like she's going to tell me anything,_ she thought cynically. To her surprise, the bartender didn't walk away.

"Yeah?" the old dog asked as he resumed wiping the glass, "What kind of information?"

"Well, I just got in here from the Armada and I'm trying to learn my way around," Miyu answered, "You know – trying to find out what sort of places to avoid, what sort of problems this place is having, that kind of thing." _Dumb, idiot girl! _She berated herself, _You might as well have announced "I'm a cop"!_

"New in town, eh?" the bartender eyed her contemptuously, "From the Armada, you say? I thought so from the uniform." _Yeah, right. _Miyu retorted in her mind, _You thought I was Army until I said something. You're not as big and bad as you look, tough guy._ "Well, everything here's legit, if that's what you're getting at. Military's got no reason to be shutting me down."

"That's not why I'm here," Miyu said. _Though I'm sure the government has __plenty__ of reason_ _to shut you down based on health violations alone._ Sustaining herself by making sarcastic comments in her head rather than aloud, she lowered her voice and motioned the bartender in closer. "The truth is that I jumped ship." _Easy does it, Miyu. Your cards are on the table now._

"Ah, defector, eh?" the bartender said, a trifle louder than Miyu would have preferred, but still unlikely to be overheard. "Look," he warned, "This bar's as respectable as any place can be expected to be here in 'Trova, which isn't much. The last thing I need is a bunch of MPs landing on me."

"So you won't help?" Miyu said.

The old bartender's face softened a bit. "I'd like to, missy," he said, "I surely would. But you've got to understand that I've got my own problems here – everyone does. You asked what sort of problems this town's having – well, you name it, we got it. I'd tell you to avoid the whole city if I thought it would do any good, but the best I can do is point you in the right direction."

"That's more than anyone else has done so far," she said, not revealing the fact that he was the first one she'd talked to.

He smiled. "I know some folks that help pretty things like you," he said, "Got themselves some good connections in high places." He reached up and scratched the side of his face – conspicuously enough for her to notice the ring on one finger. It bore the old seal of the Federation. _The resistance. Seems I found them._

"I'm listening," she said with a nod.

"Keep going north on Duncan," he said, "You'll eventually come to a street named McDuff Avenue. It's only a few blocks up from here. Stop there and go into the building on the right, just at the corner. They'll help you out."

"Thanks," Miyu said, "What's the tab?"

He waved her off. "Save it," he said, "You'll need it later."

"I won't forget this," she said as she finished her drink and got up to leave.

"Better for both of us if you did," he warned, his mock bravado making its way back into his voice, "Now beat it. I've got to clear these louts out of here or I'll never get any sleep tonight."

Miyu went out into the street and made her way northward past the flickering streetlights, watching warily through her peripherals to make sure she wasn't being followed. She kept subconsciously touching her sidearm to make sure it was still within easy reach. The bartender had been right; she hadn't gone far when she reached McDuff Avenue. The trouble was that there was no building on the right side of the street; there was only a half-completed frame of the first ten or eleven stories of a skyscraper, and it looked like the construction site had been abandoned for some time. She desperately looked around for a few moments before an authoritative voice startled her with a call of, "Hold it right there, miss."

She turned around to see a police officer aiming a pistol directly at her heart. _That creep bartender set me up! _Her heart sank and her hands went over her head. No sense reaching for her gun; he'd have fired before she could move. "Is there a problem, officer?" she asked.

The dog walked over and took her gun. He pointed at the three chevrons on his shoulder. "I'm a sergeant," he corrected. "You'll have to come with me," he said, "It's illegal to carry a concealed weapon after dark."

"Wait," she said, her desperation not requiring much acting. She showed him her dog-tags. "I'm with the Defense Force. We're authorized to carry weapons."

"Only under orders, and you haven't got any papers," he said. _Well, crap,_ she thought, _Sounds like he didn't fail any of his law classes. _"We'll have to go check on it," he took her hand. "Come with me," he ordered.

"Wait – " she began, scrambling for some other angle.

"Look, lady," he interrupted, showing her a pair of handcuffs, "I just need to ask a few questions. We can do this one of two ways. One, you walk with me nice and easy and go up to the precinct just up the street, or two, I slap these cuffs on you and call for a squad car and we drag you up there. I'd prefer the first way – I'd hate to hurt such a pretty girl as you. Which way do you want it?"

"I'll go with you," she said calmly. _That's the second one to comment on my looks, _she calculated. Miyu walked calmly and quietly with the sergeant, scrambling for a plan to get out of this mess. It only took them a few minutes to walk to the precinct, but to Miyu, it felt like forever. They walked into the police office. Only one cop was in the dimly-lit lobby, but he noticed the sergeant come in.

"Hey, Sarge," he said, "Who's the peach?"

"She's a ten-six-forty," he answered, not stopping, "I'm just gonna ask her some questions in my office."

They walked up three darkened flights of stairs. _No elevator? _Miyu thought, _This place __is__ a dump. _They came to the sergeant's office and went in after he unlocked the door. He turned on the lamp on his desk and motioned her to sit.

"Offer you a drink? Cigarette?" he asked. _Okay, what's his game? _She wondered.

"Um.. no, thanks," she replied. _Brash won't work with this guy, _she calculated, _try innocent and scared. Shipwreck survivor. Maybe you can charm your way out._

"Look," he said, "I don't want to hurt anybody, but this town's kinda rough, and you look like you're in some sort of trouble. Those fatigues you're wearing are all shredded." Well, the only part that was actually torn was the place where the Republic shoulder patch used to be, but he didn't seem too detail-oriented except where legality was concerned. "Your ship crash? Any battle action? We heard of some trouble out in Meteo, but nothing near here."

"I, uh…" she quickly fabricated a story, "I was.. uh, in transit from Meteo. Yeah, headed for Area Six – y'know, Greyson? I had some mechanical trouble and I figured Macbeth would be the best place to get help."

"Couldn't you have just called for help?" he asked suspiciously.

"Transponder array was damaged in the battle," she answered. _Hey, I actually gave this guy a grain of the truth, _she smiled inwardly at the irony.

"You mean…" he said, "You mean the Armada doesn't know where you are?"

"Not at the moment," she answered truthfully. _I don't like where this is going._

The sergeant set her gun over on the filing cabinet in the corner. "Well, that's not so bad, then," he answered, "That still doesn't explain the concealed sidearm, unfortunately."

"I was frightened, sergeant," she answered, playing up the emotion, "I've heard bad stories about this place."

"Now, now," he said with a smile, "No need to be afraid. This place isn't all that bad once you get used to it." He walked around behind her. "Normally, I'd have to hold you here for an unauthorized weapon, but I think that given the circumstances, we _might_ be able to overlook that."

"Might? What do I have to do?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

A sick feeling rose in her stomach as the sergeant helped her up from her chair and put his arms around her, patting her rear. "All you have to do," he said devilishly, "is be creative." He started kissing her. Miyu thought she might throw up. _Steady, girl, _she thought, trying to take her mind somewhere else, _Come on, Miyu. You have to do this if you want to get out alive._ She played along with the over-amorous sergeant, even going so far as to take off his shirt – grabbing his pistol carefully in the process, hoping his own motion would prevent him from feeling it. He had his eyes closed and was rubbing himself against her. _Steady, Miyu. You've endured worse than this, _she said, hoping she didn't give herself away by gagging. She steadied the pistol in her right hand and used her left to play with his shoulder a bit.

"Easy, big guy," she said seductively as she aimed the pistol at the back of his head, aiming slightly upward. She put her finger on the trigger. _If you do it, there's no going back, _a voice told her. She hadn't technically deserted, since the military had no evidence that she wasn't simply missing, but she knew that pulling that trigger would prevent her from going back.

"Oh, the things I do for the Republic," the sergeant moaned. Miyu fired.


	24. Chapter 24

Star Fox: Regime – a fan fiction by Wolf Reynolds  
"Star Fox" and all related characters and trademarks © Nintendo, Inc.  
Story ©2011 Wolf Reynolds

**Author's Note:  
**I have received some feedback from my loyal readers, and I am trying to listen to my readers. Several of my readers have expressed concern over the absence of Krystal. Although Krystal is really not central to the story at this point, I figured I needed to involve her to at least some extent. I tried to bring Krystal into this chapter so that we know she hasn't disappeared, but she (like Falco, Peppy, and Slippy) is sort of a background character at this point; there's really no way to give her a larger role at this point without changing the dynamics of the story I already have in my head. That is not to say that she isn't going to become more important in later chapters, but right now, she's not one of the characters who is moving the story forward. Introducing nonessentials into a multifaceted story like this one will cause confusion. I just wanted all of you to know that I'm listening to you - at the same time, I'm trying to explain this from a writer's perspective. I've already planned most of the story from here, even if I haven't worked out enough of the fine details to sit down and write it all at once. I don't want to introduce an unnecessary element to the story, particularly if it comes at the expense of the plans already in place. However, as the purpose of writing fan fiction is (or should be) to entertain fans, I want to include what is popular in the fan base. Therefore, I tried to include Krystal in this chapter as much as I could, even though her overall status hasn't really changed.

CHAPTER 24

_On board the __L.R.S. Pleiades__, location unknown, time unknown_

Fox cursed himself inwardly, trying to figure out where the plan had gone so horribly wrong. Fox had been hurt when he thought General Pepper had betrayed him, but watching Bill, his lifelong friend and childhood playmate, stand unflinchingly at his post while the marines aboard the _Pleiades _seized Fox and his teammates stung Fox far worse than any betrayal General Pepper could inflict. It stung more than the butts of marine rifles forcing him to his knees.

He was led through the passageways in a blur; he didn't see anything through the tears that welled in his eyes. The soldiers dragged Falco, while Krystal walked stoically beside Fox. They passed through the observation deck – the place where he and Krystal had begun their marriage which now would never know full measure. That was what hurt Fox the most: he had dragged his teammates – his closest companions – down with him. He had failed them. He had failed _her_. As they came to the airlock chamber, Fox knew the fate that awaited them all because of him. There was no consolation in the fact that he would share their fate; he knew he deserved it, but the fact gave him no comfort.

Bill, with hurt clearly visible in his eyes, allowed Fox the small mercy of being the first one executed. The lieutenant beside the inner airlock door read from a small cue device as the door slid open. "Fox McCloud," he the officer said in a formal tone, "You have been tried and convicted by a military tribunal in the name of the Democratic Republic of Lylat on the charges of espionage, theft of State property, attempted murder, and high treason against the People of Lylat. For these charges, you have been sentenced to death by jettison into space. Do you have any final words?"

_Last time, it was "Speak now or forever hold your peace." Katt told me this was suicide_, Fox hung his head in shame. Then he looked Bill squarely in the face and said, "Bill, please. Don't do this. Let them go."

"I…" Bill started, hesitant, "I'm… sorry, Fox. I… I can't. I've taken an oath to serve the Republic."

Fox didn't hang his head again. He looked up, facing his enemies, and facing his friends – no, his family; they had stayed beside him, even as it came to this. He might as well give them courage and show the rest of these cowards how to die like a true Lylatian. "My only regret," he began slowly, "Is that my death could not save the Federation I hold so dear." He turned to the rest of his team, "My friends, my comrades, my brothers – my…" his voice broke as he looked at Krystal's tear-stained face, "My love – the love of my heart – I love you all. I'll… see you on the other side, very soon." Fox backed into the chamber, looking at Krystal's face as the glass door closed. He looked at Bill once more with pleading eyes. _Please, Bill, _Fox thought, _This is wrong and you know it. Don't let them pull that lever. _The Admiral looked away. Fox turned his gaze to Krystal. He was determined that her face – her beautiful, loving face – would be the last thing he saw as he crossed into the void.

Fox heard the buildup of hydraulic pressure in the outer door, and he waited for that last barrier to disappear, but he stayed focused on Krystal. _It won't hurt for long, _he told himself. The outer door rapidly slid open, and the cold seared Fox to the marrow. He didn't hold on; he took one last view of Krystal before the vacuum's cold robbed him of his sight.

_DF Auxiliary Air Station #204 (defunct) – Zone Six, Planet Fortuna (1522 hours CCT, 0322 hours local time)_

Fox bolted awake with a yelp. "No, Bill!" he said. The blackness slowly morphed into the abandoned Fortunese airbase's moonlit VIP room, which had become his and Krystal's quarters. He panted heavily, soaked with sweat, as he looked around the room. He didn't have to look very long before he felt Krystal's hand on the back of his neck, massaging him. Fox turned and saw her, already awake and sitting on the bed beside him. He looked into her concerned face and just panted for a few moments, trying to catch his breath from losing it in the dreamed vacuum of space. "It… It was…" he panted.

"It was just a dream, my love," she caressed his ear with her free hand.

"But it was… awful…" he said, "So horrible…"

"I know," Krystal answered calmly. _I sometimes forget that she has ESP,_ Fox remembered, clarity of thought returning to him, I_ hadn't thought of that before we got married. Will she have to deal with this every time I have a nightmare?_

As if she had indeed read his thoughts, Krystal spoke as she ran her finger over his eyebrow, "My perceptions don't notice every dream that you have, but particularly strong ones come through, especially nightmares."

"You mean you also had to dream about…" Fox stammered, "…about… _that_?"

"Your dreams are your own, love, no matter how strong," she said comfortingly, "I just know that it was… a very strong dream. I suppose it's about the resistance since you said Bill's name when you woke up."

"He… he…" Fox couldn't finish.

Krystal put a finger over his mouth. "Shh…" she whispered, "It was only a dream, Fox. Only a dream." She reached back to the dimmer switch on the wall behind the headboard of the bed and brought the soft lights up to a medium level. "Funny things, dreams," she observed as she watched the fear and anguish leave Fox's eyes. "They seem so real, so terrifying, that you can't see past one when you're trapped in it," she said, "But with a little bit of light and the touch of the right hand, they melt away like fog." Fox just sat for a moment, letting Krystal hold him. Fox had never been the type to be easily frightened by nightmares, but that had been when he had no family that the false realities could harm. One thing he knew: he was not going to let the false reality of this dream become a true reality. His plan to take the _Pleiades _would not end with the deaths of those closest to him. "Fox?" Krystal rubbed his shoulder, "Why don't you go back to sleep?"

Fox rubbed his eyes. "I can't," he answered, standing up and holding Krystal's hand, "I have work to do."

Krystal looked over at the digital clock on the nightstand. "But it's 3:30 in the morning," she said, "Can't this wait until it's light?"

"Not for me," he answered, remembering the anguish that he had seen in her eyes during his nightmare, "It can't wait any longer for me. Not anymore."

"What was this dream, Fox?" she asked him, "Do you want to tell me about it?"

"I don't want to remember it, sweetheart," he shook his head, "But I won't let it happen for real." Fox didn't bother to change out of his red sweatpants; he picked a white sweater up from the floor and slid it over his head and torso. "I'll be in the command center," he said as he turned to go.

Krystal got up to follow him, quickly getting dressed at least to the point of being presentable. Fox could understand that; Panther would be back from his patrol now, and Fox wasn't keen on the idea of the over-affectionate cat paying that kind of attention to his wife. "You act like you're going there alone," Krystal protested, even though Fox had not tried to dissuade her. _She knows me better than I thought, _he smiled. "I might be able to find something you can't." Fox held out his hand to gesture her to stay, but before he could speak, Krystal spoke again. "You're not a loner anymore, mister," she said sternly, "Don't try and talk me out of going with you."

"I wasn't going to," Fox lied, taking Krystal's hand with a smile.

They went out of the room and headed up to the control center. Krystal kissed Fox quickly on the cheek and let go of his hand just before they reached the door to the control room. "I'm going in here to make some coffee," she said as she ducked into the nearby break-room on the right side of the hall. Fox just nodded with a tired smile and went into the control room.

Wolf was still sitting at the ATC monitor, but he had taken off his headphones and put the radio onto the nearby speakers. He turned around, apparently startled to see Fox entering the room. "Good grief, Fox," he muttered, "Don't you ever sleep?"

"Heh," Fox chuckled dryly, "I could ask the same of you. You look like you're about to fall asleep at the monitor."

"I haven't slept in thirty-six hours," Wolf shrugged it off, "If I don't do it, it won't get done."

"Couldn't Panther handle it?" Fox asked.

"He's too easily distracted," Wolf answered, "He's a good pilot and an indispensable scrounge, but I wouldn't expect too much more than that. Now," Wolf looked at Fox cynically, "As I'm sure you're not here to relieve me, might I ask what you're doing here at this hour?"

"I'm going to connect to the resistance's database," Fox answered as he opened the safe and grabbed the access disk Katt had given him. "We can't just keep sitting here while the Republic makes it harder and harder for us," Fox said, "Sooner or later they're going to clamp down so hard we won't be able to do much of anything."

"Yes, but why would you do that at this time of the night?" Wolf asked.

"I'm not going to try to explain it," Fox answered while he logged into the system, "I just couldn't sleep."

Krystal walked in with a tray of coffee mugs. "Coffee, anyone?" she asked.

Wolf didn't hesitate at all. He got up from his station and reached towards the tray. "Ooh," he said, "Caffeine. Gimme." He didn't bother with cream or sugar. Fox quietly took a cup and began to sip it as he sat down at the computer. Wolf swallowed a sip of coffee and looked over at Fox. "So we're finally going to make a play for the _Pleiades_, huh?" he asked.

"I hope so," Fox said with a sigh, "It's not going to be an easy job."

"What's that you're looking at right now?" Wolf asked.

"The current muster list," Fox answered somewhat absently, "I've also pulled up the cargo manifest and the flight itineraries."

"Well, we're going to have to figure out _how_ to do the job before we start worrying about _when_," Wolf said, "Have you taken a look at the ship's technical schematics?"

"Extensively," Fox answered, "We had access to those even before Katt showed up; they were in the DF's files. I know how to run the ship; it's taking over the ship that I'm worried about."

"What sort of opposition are we looking at here?" Wolf said.

"Surprisingly little," Fox answered, "The ship's entire complement is only about twenty officers and men. Almost everything is automated. For a ship this big, I was expecting more MPs."

"Didn't the _Pleiades_ bring an entire battalion of men to Area Six that first time we saw it?" Krystal asked.

"Yeah, but it's versatile," Fox answered, "The ship _can _carry a lot of troops, but that's not her mission right now."

"I don't know, Fox," Wolf said uneasily, "I smell a trap with this one."

"I don't," Fox answered, "Mainly because the automated security is so tight. The _Pleiades_ is very self-sufficient. She can go for months without making port."

"Which is one reason we want this ship so badly," Wolf said, "Any machine can be disabled with the right tools. I'd much rather deal with automated security than guards. Guards can think."

"I can't say I disagree," Fox nodded, "I don't want any killing if we can help it. That just makes it easier for them to call us terrorists. The big problem is getting aboard. We'll have to wait until it makes port somewhere; we'd never pull this off in outer space without an insider. I'm not sure I'd even trust the resistance to have an insider aboard the _Pleiades_. Bill's too smart for that."

"So what's the problem?" Wolf asked, "If we have to wait for it to make port, what's the big deal? It's not like we've never played a waiting game before."

"That's not it," Fox shook his head and carefully read the file on the screen in front of him, "Right now we actually have the opposite problem. Its next scheduled resupply is in Norantrova on Macbeth, but that's just four days from now. After that, it's a five-month cruise, and then she goes back to Corneria."

"No, we'd never get aboard if she lands in Corneria," Wolf agreed, "But what about Macbeth? It's not like we can't get there in time."

"That doesn't leave us any time to come up with a plan," Fox said, "It's going to take two days to get to Macbeth."

"But you said she lands in _four_ days, not two," Wolf said, "That gives you two whole days to come up with a plan."

"We'd never be able to coordinate with the resistance in time," Fox said.

"We don't have to," Wolf said, obviously itching to get something in motion.

Fox thought about it for several minutes. He was torn; he didn't want to rush a plan that was constructed hastily. At the same time, he knew Wolf was right; this was their best shot. It was likely to be the only opportunity they'd have. If they failed and somehow managed to escape with their lives, they'd most likely have to abandon their plan of capturing the _Pleiades_, which would be a severe setback to the efforts of the resistance. Macbeth was their best chance; the local security forces would be mediocre at best, and the _Pleiades _did not carry a heavy complement of security personnel. The ship's automated security systems could prove problematic, though. Fox had spent days studying the ship's technical schematics; he knew the dangers they would face trying to get past the guns. That was an obstacle they could overcome; they had access to Beltino's original diagrams, and they knew all of the system's weaknesses. Once they got past the external security (part of which could be disabled remotely by using the resistance's disk), they'd be able to get in and shut down all of the security.

The wild card would be Bill. According to the itinerary Fox was reading, the rest of the crew would have liberty during the ship's two-day resupply layover, but Bill would most likely stay with his ship, which meant that Fara would also most likely remain aboard. Fox didn't want anyone to get hurt, Bill and Fara least of all, but if Bill was not willing to give in when the time came, Fox would have to neutralize him. Fox knew that might mean killing him. Somehow, in spite of his nightmare and in spite of the fact that Bill and Fox were enemies on the battlefield, Fox wasn't sure he would be able to pull the trigger. Then Fox felt Krystal's hand on his shoulder as she looked at the screen with him, and his nightmare came rushing back – the tears on her face, the bruises on his friends inflicted by Republic soldiers – and he knew he would do what had to be done when the time came. Even that, though, didn't make the thought any easier.


	25. Chapter 25

Star Fox: Regime – a fan fiction by Wolf Reynolds  
"Star Fox" and all related characters and trademarks © Nintendo, Inc.  
Story ©2011 Wolf Reynolds

**Author's Note: **Sorry for taking so long, guys – this chapter has really been kicking my butt. My hours at work changed substantially, so I haven't had as much time to work on this. On top of that, I hit a huge writer's block with this one. My story had some good momentum, and then I slammed into a brick wall that my original outline (yes – I'm one of those geeks who actually uses an outline even for a fan fiction) didn't anticipate. I've reached a point in the story where I want the atmosphere and overall tone to be perfect (and I realize it's only a fan fiction, but I don't like lowering my personal standards of writing for anything) because any mistakes in mood could cause parts of the story to be drastically misinterpreted. You, my faithful readers, have my sincerest apologies and my assurances that updates in the future should be considerably swifter.

CHAPTER 25

_Cawdor Street – Norantrova, Planet Macbeth. (0147 hours CCT, 0847 hours local time)_

The protostar Solar, the lesser Lylat sun, shone dimly through the polluted sky of Norantrova. The sun, though fully risen, provided little light for the grimy city; the streetlamps flickered all through the day and night, their electronic eyes barely able to distinguish night from day through the murky veil. Even through the pollution, though, Norantrova was not entirely without hope. Clean rain fell on the city, swept in across the vague (but still present) continental divide from the Nollion Sea to the east. Norantrova's runoff polluted the western sea, but the waters of the Nollion were still pristine, relatively untouched by the urbanization that had contaminated much of the planet. Indeed, the Nollion Sea provided what little clean water was available to Norantrova, and even the soaking rains that blew in from the east were not able to wash away the decades of grime that had accumulated on the city's buildings and roads.

Still, the rain came as a relief to Miyu as she walked through the gloom. She didn't bother to cover her head with the hood of her military-issue raincoat but let the rain run down her hair and the sides of her face; it was the closest thing she'd had to a shower since the battle in Outer Sargasso. In spite of how dirty she felt, Miyu was quite proud of herself. She had managed to give the police the slip after killing one of their sergeants while at the same time managing to locate the sergeant's files concerning the local police force's knowledge of the resistance. She'd found the files with considerable ease, and while she was proud of herself for finding them so quickly and effortlessly, she was rather disappointed by their substance (or, rather, their lack of substance). Miyu had been disappointed to learn that Macbeth harbored very little of a resistance movement, and what _was _there was little more than a shell of the city's former barons of industry who were more interested in restoring their social prominences than they were in ousting the authoritarian regime that now controlled the system. As long as the money kept flowing (usually under the table), the local authorities were basically content to ignore the so-called "Macbeth Resistance". What Macbeth had would hardly qualify as a "resistance" movement, Miyu thought. None of those suit-wearing, cigar-smoking cretins would have any idea where Fox McCloud could be found. That was just as well; Miyu wasn't particularly keen on talking with any of them anyway. One thing Miyu did know: the _Pleiades_ was on her way. She knew the task force's schedule as well as any of the other commanders; the ship would resupply in Norantrova and head back out to rendezvous with the task force in the Bolse sector. That meant that Norantrova would shortly be host to the crew of the _Pleiades_. Miyu doubted anyone other than Admiral Grey would recognize her, but she wanted to keep out of sight while the starship was in port.

Despite the initial setbacks she had suffered shortly after her arrival on Macbeth, Miyu was doing a fairly good job of keeping a low profile. She had been forced to neutralize that one policeman, but the other cop that had been in the police office never got a good look at her face; she'd made sure to keep her head down or look the other way the entire time she was being taken through the office. She wasn't quite sure where to go now; she aimlessly wandered down Cawdor Street through the rain, searching for any clues related to the whereabouts of Fox McCloud. A search through her ship's log and the Defense Force database had proven fruitless; according to the DF's top-secret files, Fox's last known whereabouts had been Sargasso. Miyu already knew that, though; she had been there, after all. The state media network and other official channels continued to report that Fox McCloud had been killed when the _Cloudrunner _exploded.

Everywhere Miyu searched, she seemed to find nothing but dead ends. She was beginning to wonder if Macbeth was the best place to look. Not that she had a choice; her ship had given everything it had just to get her this far. At the moment, she was stuck. Miyu knew she couldn't get off the planet without a working ship, and that meant that she had to either find a new ship or find parts and fix the one she had. Everything seemed to amass on top of Miyu; she felt trapped, and she knew she had to get out of the trap. Miyu had never thought of herself as being especially attractive, but her experience with the police sergeant had made her more conscious of the stares from the male pedestrians who passed her. That experience made her wonder how far she was willing to go to accomplish her goal. Would she use her feminine attractiveness as a weapon? She abhorred the very thought, but she didn't dismiss the necessity. She was inexperienced in that realm, and she knew it, but she wondered how much that would matter if she ever had to travel that road.

She pushed the thoughts from her mind as she walked through the steady rain, focusing on the problems she faced in the immediate future. She didn't want to be stranded in Norantrova any longer than necessary. The _Pleiades_ would arrive in two days, and she had no leads on Fox McCloud, the effective resistance, or where she could replace her ship. She was weary, hungry, and dispirited. On top of that, she was alone. Still, Miyu remained hopeful. No one was looking for her, so she was confident in her ability to stay hidden. In her present situation, that ability could very well be the difference between life and death.

_On board the __L.R.S. Pleiades__ – Deep Space Traffic Control Sector X, Area Four, in the Mactan Corridor (0217 CCT)_

With the defiant flag of the Republic proudly emblazoned upon her outer hull, the _Pleiades _lumbered silently through the absolute cold of interplanetary space, the blue cloud of the Sector X nebula faintly visible astern. The Mactan Corridor, the safe navigation route between the orbits of Macbeth, Papetoon, and Titania, was quite empty since the ouster of the old Federation. The Corridor used to be a major thoroughfare for merchants transporting goods back and forth between the Lylat System's two most industry-based planets, but since the coup, the lane had been choked by Republic checkpoints. Mainstream merchants now preferred routes which were once impractical but were now more expedient, sometimes going as far out of their way as Zoness to avoid the Republic's notoriously-slow checkpoints and their often-aggressive Manifest Inspection Officers, known as MIOs.

The Mactan route was still occasionally used, but it had become more of a route for Defense Force supply convoys using Macbeth as a stopover on their way to the remote military outpost world of Titania. A spaceship might travel this corridor for days without encountering another soul. The passage served the Republic flagship's purpose for now; the leviathan glided through the darkness in total silence, with no air to carry the mighty roar of its formidable engines. The _Pleiades _had left the rest of the fleet behind; on the orders of Central Command, the _Pleiades _had separated from the Internal Security Task Force for a brief resupply on Macbeth.

The ship was alone in space but for the two Arwings serving as its escorts. Any other captain might have felt vulnerable under such circumstances; Bill Grey did not. He judged the situation according to the information he had. The Republic considered the Mactan Triad to be secure; the three planets connected by the Corridor were firmly under Republic control, and what little government resistance that was present did not have access to any spacecraft capable of challenging even the merest fraction of the _Pleiades_'s substantial firepower.

The source of Bill's tension was not rooted in their solitude in space; his anxiety lay elsewhere. It was always the same dilemma that tormented him: was he doing the right thing or not? It was too late for Star Fox; how many other lives was he destroying by serving the Republic? Everything had changed for Bill; there were no longer any certainties. Fara was his only solid anchor. If not for Fara, Bill might have already given up on the whole Republic. _This is why they don't let husbands and wives serve in the same units_, he thought, _I just happened to be able to arrange it with the Chief of Staff. I'm such an idiot. I should have sent her somewhere safe._

Bill didn't know what he had been thinking when he started; it was too late to do anything about it now, but he wished he had it to do over. If he did, maybe Miyu would still be safe. Bill felt responsible for what had happened to Miyu; she was still missing, and after several days with no contact from her, Bill had had no choice but to follow standard procedure and update her status to "presumed dead". He had scraped for months – years, really – to get an admiral's flag and a major command, and now he was beginning to inwardly doubt his fitness for command. Bill was, by any reasonable evaluation, psychologically compromised by the situation. He was emotionally involved, which made him liable to unsound decisions.

Right now, Bill was in command, though; liable to bad decisions or not, he was in a position where he expected to have his orders obeyed. With the possible exception of Fara, Bill wasn't sure how far he trusted his crew. At first they had all seemed eager to follow him, but since the encounter at Sargasso, that had changed. Oh, they still followed his orders without question, and he was still on friendly terms with all of them, but the fervor that had been present at the start didn't seem to be there anymore.

"Sir?" a voice from the helmsman's station shook Bill out of his thoughts.

"What is it, Sullivan?" Bill asked.

"Oh, nothing serious, sir," the helmsman replied, "Some of us were just wondering how you were going to spend your liberty."

"Well, Norantrova's not exactly the best place for a liberty," Bill answered with a dry smile, "I figured I'd just stay aboard. What about you, hmm?"

"Oh, I - I mean we, the guys and I -" the others on the bridge nodded as Sullivan spoke, "We were just gonna go out on the town. You know, check out the night life. We thought... well, sir, we thought you might want to come with us." A chorus of agreements came from the rest of the bridge crew.

"I appreciate it, guys," Bill said, somewhat surprised by their offer, "But this is going to be the first time since we set out on this mission that I'll have a chance to relax. If it's all the same to you, I'd rather just stay here aboard the ship. It's more comfy here, and Norantrova hasn't got much of my kind of night life, anyway. I'm a married man, remember?" They all looked somewhat disappointed by his decision. "Hey, hey," he said, "Enough with the long faces. I wasn't going to try and keep any of you guys from going. I just wanted a bit of down time, that's all." _Well... _Bill thought, _This feels... awkward. I feel like a stick in the mud now. _"I'm not trying to stop your fun, guys. When we get there tomorrow, you should all go out and have fun. _Someone's_ got to stay behind and take the duty, right? Better me than you, right?"

"Well, I guess since you put it _that _way..." Sullivan smiled. They all had a laugh over that, but Bill sensed something he hadn't sensed in his crew members up to this point: tension. He might have been losing his edge. He was still in firm command, but he was beginning to wonder if the crew was able to relate to him as well as they once had. As sad as it was for Bill to admit, he was no longer certain of where the crew members' loyalties ultimately lay. Were they loyal to him, or to the Republic? There was a time when that would not have been a divided loyalty; to be loyal to Bill _was_ to be loyal to the Republic, because that was where Bill's own loyalty was to be found. Now, though, Bill wasn't sure of his loyalty apart from Fara. Ultimately, his loyalty and duty was to the Republic, even now, after all that had happened. The Republic's government had its faults – he counted Star Fox's plight among them – but he had to believe in it. The rule of military law was not to be taken lightly, but in Bill's thinking, if the myriad resistance fighters that had appeared all over the Lylat System were not in such opposition, then there would be no need for the system-wide martial law. Lylat's soldiers would be able to stand down soon (and indeed, would have been able to stand down long since) if the people would only cooperate and trust, as he himself trusted, that the scales of democracy would balance. He was beginning to wonder, though, whether that trusting attitude might have been terribly naïve. That was what gnawed him; he was no longer sure who to trust.

Everything would be resolved soon, one way or the other. According to the reports that the Republic Intelligence Bureau had communicated to Bill, the insurgent groups within the Lylat System were dwindling in strength and in number. The Republic was slowly establishing order. Bill supposed he should not have been surprised; any major change in government would meet significant resistance, but when the government had the support of the general populace – as the Republic seemed to – that resistance would eventually fade away by the demands of popular sovereignty. Bill's job, which he took very seriously, was to protect the decisions of that popular sovereignty.

"Sir?" the communications officer interrupted Bill's thoughts.

"What is it, Lieutenant?" Bill asked.

"I… I'm not sure, Admiral," the officer said, "I'm picking up some kind of radio emissions."

"Well, we're fairly close to the nebula, Ferguson," Bill answered, "It gives off all sorts of weird signals."

"No, sir," Ferguson answered confidently, "This is different. I'm pretty sure it's artificial."

"Telemetry?" Bill suggested.

"I don't think so, sir," the lieutenant shook his head, "But I can't isolate it, so I don't know. I didn't think we had any probes here except for the ones in the nebula. It's getting closer, whatever it is."

Bill took the headphones at the comms station and put one side to his ear. Ferguson was right; it definitely wasn't coming from the nebula. Bill could hear the nebula's normal ambience – he was experienced enough in deep space to be able to pick that out – but this sound was coming in over the nebula's noise. Bill was also experienced enough to know that this sound was artificial, and it sounded suspiciously like the interference created by an ion engine using a disjunction drive – an engine like one an interplanetary fighter might use. Forgetting his musings over crew tension and political dynamics, Bill changed himself back into "captain mode." The change was completely internal, of course; no one in the crew noticed any difference. He looked over his shoulder at the tactical officer. "Levinson, have you got anything over there?"

"No, sir," the lieutenant replied simply. _That's odd. _Bill thought, putting the headphone back to his ear. _It sounds fairly close. It couldn't be stealth fighters, could it?_

"Levinson," Bill ordered, "Scan for ion emissions. I think we might have company."

"Aye-aye, sir," Levinson answered. Bill waited in silence for the lieutenant's report as the ion resonators came online. _Who could possibly have stealth fighters, _Bill thought, _and how could they possibly get __here__? Any number of patrols and checkpoints should have caught that. _An ion scan didn't lie, though. "There is ion engine activity, Admiral," Levinson said, "Low off the starboard beam. I'm reading six distinct signatures."

"Sound general quarters," Bill said calmly to Lieutenant Ferguson.

"Aye-aye, sir," Ferguson answered. The lights in the bridge turned red, followed by three loud rasps from the alarm, and Ferguson spoke into the ship-wide intercom system: "Now hear this; now hear this. All personnel report immediately to battle stations. Repeat, all personnel to battle stations. This is not a drill. That is all."

"Energy deflectors to 'enable' and prime," Bill ordered. He felt strange; this was his first time commanding a starship in battle. He had led men in desperate fights before, but that had been back when he was just a hotshot squadron leader on Katina. Now _he _was the one making all the decisions. He was surprised by how calm he was – not only how calmly he was _acting_, but how calm he actually _felt_. Despite the blaring alarm and the pulsating red light, Bill didn't feel the same adrenaline rush he had always felt before past battles.

"Enabled," the systems officer replied, "Shields primed to five gigajoules."

"They're closing around us, Admiral," Levinson said, anxiety building in his voice, "Shall I prime weapons?"

"Negative," Bill answered immediately, "We're safe for now as long as we keep our shields up. We won't fire unless they fire first. Ferguson, tell our escorts."

"Aye-aye, sir," Ferguson answered and began to signal the two Arwing pilots.

"All engines stop," Bill commanded, still calm but with a little more urgency in his voice, "Levinson, prime energy relays for anti-missile fire."

"Yes, sir, Admiral," Levinson answered, complying with the order. He then noticed a new reading on his control panel. "Sir," he said, "The unknown spacecraft are dropping their cloak. They've taken positions on our port and starboard abow, astern, and amidships."

_What are they doing? _Bill scratched his head, wondering. _I outgun them probably thirty to one. They can't seriously be thinking of trying to attack. _He had abandoned his wonderings over who had stealth fighters and how they had gotten here; those questions would have to wait. Who they were and how they were there weren't important; that they _were _there was the only thing that mattered at the moment.

"Admiral, sir…" Ferguson said in a confused tone that implied mild surprise, "They're hailing us."

Bill raised an eyebrow. "Put it on the main screen," he said. The image of a dinosaur appeared on the screen. It was an Earthwalker – educated and of high status, by the looks of him – looking somber and grave. On his crest, he wore the insignia of an officer in the Saurian Militia. _What is this?_ Bill thought in shock, _The Saurians are peaceful. Why are __they__ here?_

"Greetings, Admiral Grey," the Saurian spoke, "I am Malonga Sha, Shield-Lieutenant to His Majesty, King Tricky."

"Greetings, Lieutenant Sha," Bill said formally, "I wish I could welcome you properly, as befitting a true Saurian, but you have entered a restricted sector…"

"_I _shall speak, Admiral," Sha interrupted, "You shall listen to me. I speak on behalf of our king and our planet. His Majesty has given me leave to speak in his name. We wish to deliver a message to the central government of the Republic."

"Couldn't you just visit the Consulate's emissary on Sauria?" Bill asked.

"He is no longer welcome there," Sha answered contemptuously. Bill was taken aback by both the lieutenant's tone and his message. The crew obviously shared Bill's surprise; one of the bridge officers (Bill couldn't tell which) audibly gasped. The Earthwalker continued, "You, Admiral, are deep in the upper circles of the Republic. This message is best communicated through you, as commanded by our king," Malonga Sha's passion became increasingly evident in his voice, "We, the people of Sauria, have been trapped by slavery ever since the fall of our Cerinian protectors. First it was the armies of Andross, then the tyranny of the Sharpclaw, and then the threat of the Aparoids. Now the Republic tries to crush us under its heel. No longer! Our slavery is ended, and our chains are broken. We are free, and we are a proud people."

_What does he mean by that? _Bill thought in surprise, _He sounds as if they're starting a rebellion. The Saurians are peaceful! _His thoughts raced. "What are you saying, Lieutenant Sha?" Bill asked, his throat feeling dry and constricted.

"His Majesty wishes the Republic's leaders to know that the Sauria Sector is forthwith closed to the Republic," Sha said, sounding ceremonious but not particularly happy with the list of demands he had to deliver. Still, he gave Bill the Saurians' treasonous ultimatum, apparently without regard for the danger in which he had placed himself. "All Republic warships and trade vessels must exit the sector, and all Republic officials must leave. Those are our demands, and we will accept nothing less. The Republic has forty-eight hours to comply."

"But you can't do that!" Bill protested.

"Then I swear to you" Sha said angrily, "that to the very last Saurian, we will die trying."

"Come with us," Bill pleaded, "We'll escort you back to the capital." _In your illegal ships_, Bill remembered; he couldn't overlook that fact. Right now, though, he had to try and stop one of Lylat's most productive societies from falling away from the Republic's protection. "I'm sure the Central Committee can work something out with you," Bill said, hoping he wasn't appearing weak to his crew, "They'd be honored to receive you."

"I'm sorry, Admiral," Sha replied, not sounding sorry at all, "We are returning to Sauria now."

"But don't you understand?" Bill said, "I can't just let you go! You've come into a restricted sector in ships that have been illegal since the Uprising!"

"You would be wise not to impede us, Admiral," Sha said, "Sauria is our home, and we do not intend to spend the rest of our lives in a Cornerian cell waiting for the great and glorious Republic leaders to hear our pleas for mercy. We are returning to Sauria now," he repeated, "If you choose to stand in our way, the blood will be on _your _hands, not ours. Our meeting is at an end." Sha's image disappeared from the screen.

"No, wait –" Bill stopped talking, realizing the futility of the situation.

"Sir, they're priming weapons," Levinson said, some heat evident in his voice. "What are your orders?"

Bill stared through the front window into the field of stars. His orders rang in his head: _"The Task Force shall neutralize all subversives and dissidents, using lethal force if necessary." _ He didn't want to fire on these Saurians – curse it all, he didn't _want _to kill Saurians! The Saurians were peaceful. He had never seen this side of them. It was obvious, though, that capture was not possible. He couldn't just let them go; his crew would eat him alive, not to mention the fact that he would be betraying his duty.

"Sir?" Levinson said more urgently, "Your orders? Admiral?"

"Our orders are to meet dissidents with all deliberate force," Bill reminded him finally, "Prime turrets and open fire." _And may posterity curse me for seven eternities for spilling Saurian blood._

"Aye-aye, sir," Levinson answered gravely. The fight was over quickly, and it went just about as Bill expected. The last bursts of particle fire from the _Pleiades_'s cluster flak arrays faded away, and there was nothing left. Bill felt as if he had just killed a brother. He had not known Malonga Sha for more than those few minutes they had spoken, but Sha's death would be forever etched in his brain. Bill's duty had forced him to kill his own countrymen, and oddly enough, he still felt that the engagement was _his _fault, not theirs.

"Helm, continue on course for Macbeth," Bill ordered wearily, "Ferguson, you have the conn."


	26. Chapter 26

Star Fox: Regime – a fan fiction by Wolf Reynolds  
"Star Fox" and all related characters and trademarks © Nintendo, Inc.  
Story ©2011 Wolf Reynolds

**Author's Note: **I know my updates are still a little sluggish, but I'm trying not to let it run away from me again, especially now that the story has some momentum. I'm working on several other stories at the moment (novels I plan to publish, not fan fictions), so this is taking something of a back seat, but don't worry; I'm going to keep writing it as long as you all keep reading it.

CHAPTER 26

_Former CCNN Building (Cornerian Resistance HQ) – Corneria City, Planet Corneria (0743 hours CCT)_

The headquarters of the Cornerian resistance movement was mostly dark; only a few lights lit the corridors of the 98th floor. The rooms were lit only by the collective glow of computer screens and the occasional desk lamp. The resistance had to ration its power very carefully; it was difficult enough for the resistance's engineers to siphon power from the city's grid in the first place, and doing it without being noticed would be nearly impossible if not done in small amounts. The resistance used the least power possible, at least appearing to be content with the trickle of power coming through from the power grid and getting by with portable generators otherwise.

Katt knew they were running out of time; they couldn't remain undiscovered forever, and even if they could, they wouldn't be much of a threat to the Republic with their current resources. Their power was too low and too isolated to mount a serious propaganda campaign, and they had almost nothing in the way of weaponry – the trickle of Army war materials from the occasional defector didn't amount to much. Oh, there was the supposed weapons cache that Star Fox had, but Katt suspected that they would be reluctant to part with any of their heavy equipment before the situation on Corneria was a little different. Not that it mattered; neither the resistance nor Star Fox had the vessels needed to transport the equipment. Katt was discouraged by the current state of affairs, but she tried to remain optimistic for the benefit of the other members of the resistance. If they were caught, they'd likely all be put against the wall and executed systematically by the Republic's firing squads, but Katt never discussed that part with anyone; it was something everybody knew and nobody liked to contemplate.

Fay appeared in the hallway in front of Katt. She looked like she had some urgent news to relay, so Katt walked towards her. "Katt, I have a situation that needs your attention," Fay said, motioning her into the computer room nearby.

Katt followed her to her computer screen. "What is it?" she asked Fay.

"It's Fox," Fay answered, "He says they're going to make a play for the _Pleiades_."

"Well, _that _was fast," Katt said, somewhat miffed after all that Fox had told her about not being able to get a plan together for some time. Her frustration quickly wore off, though; the _Pleiades_ was something they needed desperately. It was a transporter, a fortress, and a power center all in one. "What does he say?"

"Well, that's the bad news," Fay answered, "There's no way he'll be able to coordinate with us on it. He and his team are saying they have to go it alone."

"_What?_" Katt shouted, startling Fay, "Is he still there? Let me talk to him." Fay moved out of the way without a word. Katt sat down at the keyboard and saw Fox's face on the screen. She put on the nearby headset.

"Hello, Katt," Fox said, "I assume Fay's filled you in on the situation?"

"She told me enough to know that you are going after the _Pleiades_ without any help at all," Katt said brusquely, "We need a starship, Fox, not a boneheaded play that's going to get our most potentially-useful operatives killed."

Strangely enough, Fox was smiling at her, a hint of a chuckle on his face. That hotshot could be positively _infuriating_ at times! As glad as she was to see him alive, she was ready to kill him. "I take it you flew off the handle before Fay could explain _why _we have to go without you?" Katt just stared at him in astonishment. "Flew off the handle"? The worst part of it was that he was right.

"Sorry, Fox," she admitted. Well, hang it all, she could swallow her pride when the stakes were high enough. "I'm sure you have a good reason," she went on, "But we _are _in this together," she reminded him, "Would you at least be willing to explain it to me?"

"Now, Katt," he said with what she thought – what she _hoped_ – was _mock _condescension, "Do you really think I'd leave you completely in the dark?" So smug – the fox was _insufferable_! The only bright side to this was that she was talking to Fox instead of Falco.

"Go on," she said coldly.

"About the simplest way I can put it is that the _Pleiades_ is landing on Macbeth less than two days from now," he explained, "And it's basically all by itself. Very little security and liberty for most of the crew. I don't think we'll get a better shot at it for months – maybe years. We didn't find out about until a very short time ago. We're willing to coordinate with you, but do you even have any operatives that can get there in time?"

"No," Katt admitted, "Our operatives on Fichina are tied down at the moment."

"And there's no branch of the resistance movement in Norantrova?" Fox asked.

"None to speak of," Katt huffed irritably. _Don't even get me __started__ on Macbeth's "resistance." _she thought.

"Do you see any alternative, then?" Fox asked, "I mean, it would be senseless to let this chance pass when we might not get another one."

_He's going to get himself killed_, Katt thought sullenly. _The worst part is that I can't do a damn thing about it. He's right, after all._

"Curse you for being right, Fox McCloud," Katt said with a sad smile, "But if you don't make it out of this alive, I'm going to kill you."

"From you, I don't doubt it at all," Fox chuckled, "We'll succeed, Katt. I promise. I figured you'd want to get out of that dark little office."

"Oh, but we've got such a wonderful view of the city from here," Katt answered playfully. A sudden wave of emotion swept over her; she never felt for Fox what she felt for Falco, but she had travelled with his team and fought side by side with him. And Falco _would _be in danger, too; Fox couldn't do this mission without him. "Fox, you be careful," she said warmly, "Keep your friends close."

"I will, Katt," Fox smiled.

_This is really it_, Katt thought. Everything was happening so fast, she was having trouble letting it really sink in. Katt couldn't shake the horrible feeling that everything was being rushed. She knew that taking advantage of opportunity meant that a great amount of risk was involved, but Fox and his team didn't have the time to plan everything the way they should have. Unfortunately, though, Fox was right in that they didn't have any choice. The resistance had been sharing its files with Star Fox – Katt knew the _Pleiades_'s schedule as well as anyone, and there were only two possibilities: they captured the _Pleiades_ now, or they didn't capture it at all. And the resistance _needed_ the _Pleiades_.

_Interplanetary Space – Area Four, Fortuna/Macbeth Transorbit (three minutes later)_

For the first time since the Aparoid Incident, all four of Star Wolf's modified TF-38 fighters flew proudly through space in perfect formation. It was bittersweet, really; there really wasn't anything left of Star Wolf – Pigma had been kicked off the team for his blinding greed's endangerment to the team, Andrew had betrayed the team and had tried to resurrect his uncle's tyrannical empire, and Leon had been killed by the same tyranny with a different name. There was nothing left of Star Wolf except Wolf and Panther – not much of a team. For all intents and purposes, they were part of Star Fox now.

Still, the Wolfens looked splendid as they cut sleekly through the starlit void. Seven teammates in four two-man ships wasn't even a very tight fit. Wolf got one ship to himself; he had insisted quite vehemently upon that. Not that Fox particularly minded; he could understand Wolf's emotional attachment to the spacecraft. Fox's own Arwing was lost to him, possibly forever – left to rot in some Republic junkyard after the coup. He had flown in other Arwings since, of course, but they weren't quite the same. That was _his _Arwing – more than that, it had been his father's. Fox subconsciously thumbed his red bandana as he looked at the holographic image of Katt in front of him. That red scarf was practically all he had left of his father now; the other things James McCloud had left behind had been taken from him, one by one – the _Great Fox_, his Arwing, the _Blue Marine_ – all gone. Oddly enough, Fox felt a twinge of regret over the _Blue Marine_; he and his father had built it together. After the Uprising, he had parked it in Corneria Harbor and left it there, neglected for years. Fox shook the thought out of his head; now wasn't the time to think about this.

He couldn't help but reflect on his life right now, especially since he was potentially nearing the end of it. They all knew the risks involved in this mission; Fox didn't want to let his nightmare come true, but failure in this mission would most likely leave them with no escape. All seven of them had agreed: if the mission went awry and there was no chance of retreat, they would not allow themselves to be captured. They would take the _Pleiades _or go down fighting. He looked over his shoulder, trying to see Krystal in the seat behind him. He couldn't crane his neck quite far enough, but she patted his cheek, reassuring him that she was there. Of all the failures that came to haunt him now, Fox didn't count Krystal as one of them. However little time they had had together, Fox knew he had made the right choice in Krystal. She was still as beautiful now as she had been the first time he saw her. She was everything to him – companion, comforter, lover, friend – she was _part _of him. Fox had had relationships before Krystal, but they all paled in comparison.

"Fox? Fox? Hellooo?" Katt shook him out of his thoughts.

"Hmm?" Fox said, "Oh, sorry, Katt. I've… got a lot on my mind."

"I'll bet you do, hun," she smiled, "Try to stay focused, Fox. You've got to. You _can't _lose focus on this one – it'll get you killed. So, what's the plan, Fox? I'm not letting you jump headfirst with no plan whatsoever."

"I fail to see how you could stop me if you wanted to," Fox said dryly, "But we've got plans. The _Pleiades _is supposed to be stopped in Norantrova spaceport for about fourteen hours, according to the mission itinerary."

"Security?" Katt asked.

"Mostly automated," Fox replied, using the starboard information port to double-check the mission data he had loaded into the ship's computer, "The itinerary is top-secret, so they're not calling in too much security on it. My guess is that they figure the fewer people know it's there, the better."

"That sounds an awful lot like a trap, Fox," Katt said uneasily.

"Trust me, Katt, my trap senses have been tingling ever since we started this," Fox said, "There will be some marines aboard, but if they follow standard protocols, there'll probably be at least a small contingent of men from the Army base nearby."

"And how do you plan to deal with them?"

"Well, we're going to have to play some of that by ear," Fox answered, "It depends on just how many there are. If there aren't too many, we can probably sneak past them through the under-parts of the ship. If we can't do that, we may have to rely on a diversion of some kind."

"A _diversion_?" Katt said incredulously, "Fox, there are _seven_ of you! What kind of serious diversion can you possibly create without getting one of yourselves killed?"

"We're doing the best we can," Fox said in frustration, "We'll fly in under the spaceport tower's radar and land near the spaceport. Our diversion agent should be able to get out and jump into one of the Wolfens while we take off in the _Pleiades_. We can rendezvous in orbit."

"Okay, okay," Katt said, obviously straining to process it all, "But for the love of all things holy, don't be reckless."

"You don't have to tell me that, Katt," Fox said, "Your worrying is starting to make me nervous."

"You _need_ to be nervous, Fox," Katt answered, "At least a little; a little nervousness will keep you alive if you don't do anything stupid." That was one of the things Fox had always liked about Katt; she was always blunt and direct. He supposed that was why she had made such a good reporter.

"Well, I'm nervous as hell," Fox answered, "And I don't plan to do anything stupid. We'll be landing ahead of the _Pleiades_, and then we've got fourteen hours. That gives us plenty of time to take stock of the situation. And don't worry – if it's too much, we _will_ bug out. If we have to move the resistance forward without the _Pleiades_, then so be it. Once we're committed, we're committed, but I won't start the operation unless we have a reasonable chance of success."

"And once you commit?" Katt asked.

Fox was going to be honest with her; all of his teammates had agreed with him, so there was no reason to keep Katt in the dark. "If we can't retreat," Fox said, "Success or death. We won't jeopardize the resistance by being captured. There's too much at stake. We all agreed on that." _Please, Katt_, Fox thought, _Don't try to change my mind. We're unsettled enough as it is_.

Katt just looked at him; she looked choked up, like she was about ready to cry. "All right, Fox," she said, her voice wavering, "I guess this is it."

"I guess so," Fox answered unsteadily.

"When?" Katt asked.

"If you don't hear from us in forty-eight hours," Fox said, "Then assume that we've failed."

"I'd better hear from you, Fox," Katt said, "Good luck." She paused a moment, as if she was trying to think of some last parting words. What she said didn't surprise Fox at all. "Fox, before you commit," she began, a single tear streaming from her left eye, "Tell Falco…" she wiped her eye in a vain attempt to disguise her voice choking, "Tell him… tell him that I love him."

"I will, Katt," Fox promised, then smiled, "But you'd better be prepared to follow up. I plan to put him on the video line with you two days from now."

"I hope you do," Katt said, unable to smile, "Good luck, Fox."

"Thanks, Katt," Fox said, "When you wish us luck, it always seems to follow us. Let's hope that doesn't fail us now. Goodbye, Katt."

"Goodbye, Fox." Katt's image faded from in front of him.

Fox sighed; he had finally gotten his fear in check, but now it was churning in his gut again. Forty-eight hours. It wasn't long; a few hours from now, they'd be on Macbeth. A very short time later, the _Pleiades _would be landing, and they would all be trying to take it. All of it seemed surreal to Fox; this was something that he and Wolf had been planning since the first few days following the coup, and now the moment was very near at hand all of a sudden. And this was only the beginning; the _Pleiades_ would not win this fight for them – it was only a step towards winning. They would have to _use _it if they wanted to oust the Republic.

Krystal put her hand on Fox's shoulder; it always seemed like she could sense his anxiety. He hoped her trust in him was not misplaced. He didn't want to die here; he wasn't _afraid_ to die; he had been throwing himself into danger for years, but now that he had something – some _one_ – to live for, he didn't want to lose the chance.

"Fox?" she said, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he huffed unconvincingly, "There's just a lot in front of us."

"It will be over soon," Krystal said, "One way or another."

"I know," Fox answered, "I just wish I felt a little more prepared. I feel like we're jumping off a ledge not knowing whether it's a ditch or a cliff."

"I don't think less of you for being afraid, Fox," Krystal said lovingly, "I hope you know that by now."

"Yeah, I know," Fox said, "That doesn't make me less afraid. I just want to be done with it. Not just the _Pleiades. _ I want to be finished with this whole _miserable_ thing. I'm tired – I'm worn out."

"We all are, Fox," Krystal answered, "We all are. But we just have to keep going. If we don't do it, no one will."

"I know," Fox said wearily. Fox's navigation instruments beeped for attention. He looked down at the navigation hologram in front of him and then opened his communicator to the other three ships. "We're coming up on the border," he said, "All ships report." Fox couldn't help but smile as he said it; it brought him back to a time when he knew his job and did it. He remembered those days – they weren't so very distant, but they seemed so – when he and his teammates formed up after a mission and gave regular reports. It wasn't that simple now, of course, but Fox let the nostalgic illusion of simplicity wash over him.

"Panther and Peppy reporting," Panther was the first to answer Fox's hail, "We're both fine, Fox."

"This is Falco," Falco answered, "Slippy says all systems nominal. We're fine here."

"Wolf here," Wolf said in a calm voice, "No problems back here. How are you and Krystal doing?"

"We're both fine," Fox answered, then switched his tone to one typical of an assertive squadron leader. "Everyone listen up," he announced, "We're coming into the Mactan Corridor now. This area doesn't have much traffic, but it's heavily patrolled. There are a lot of Civil Guard and Armada ships here, but most of them are concentrated at the Republic checkpoints. Everyone got that?" Fox waited until he got affirmative responses from his teammates before continuing. "Stay sharp," he went on, "Do not fire unless fired upon. We don't want a fight. We want to follow the Corridor to Macbeth and attract as little attention as possible. We'll have to move fast, because the _Pleiades_ is using the same route, and she's only a few hours behind us. Slippy, are you there?"

"Right here, Fox," Slippy answered over the radio.

"Good," Fox said, "I need you to brief everyone on the plan we discussed."

"Okay, Fox," Slippy said. _He's a drip, _Fox thought to himself, _But I don't know what we'd do without his technical skills._ "Okay, the first thing you all need to do is turn on your transponders and squawk two-seven-four-one. That's the Armada's IFF code. If there's any automated security at the checkpoints, that transponder code will let us pass through without triggering any alarms. If we come up on a patrol, we'll immediately go to radio silence."

Wolf broke in. "What do we do if one of them contacts us?" he asked.

"General Pepper has provided us with a mandate code," Slippy explained, "If someone contacts you and asks why you're there, just stay quiet and let Fox handle it. We're all going to be on the same frequency. Any questions?"

"Just one," Panther asked, "What happens if one of us gets separated?"

"That shouldn't be a problem," Fox answered before Slippy could. "Thanks, Slippy," he said, then continued, "If it _does_ happen, and someone contacts you, then tell that person that you're on a top secret mission and can't give details. I'm transmitting the mandate code to all of you. If someone is persistent on asking details of your fake mission, transmit this code and tell the pilot of the…" he had to think about it, "…of the… enemy… ship to check that code. He'll get a reply that IDs us as legit. There's no real mission attached to it, of course, but they won't know that. Now, that code expires twelve hours from now. After that, it will be completely wiped from the military's servers – Beltino and General Pepper don't want to leave any trail that ties them to us. Whatever you do, don't let anyone get close enough to get a visual on your cockpit. If you have to talk to someone, use your vox – don't let them identify your voiceprint. If an enemy pilot IDs you, destroy him," Fox said. It was painful; he didn't want more Lylatians killed because of him, but there was no choice. "We can't let him communicate with the other ships in the Corridor. They'd ramp up security on the _Pleiades_, and we'd lose our chance here. Got it? Anything else?"

Fox was relieved that no one was questioning his orders; even Wolf understood the need for a clear chain of command in such a delicate operation. Everyone gave affirmative replies, and no one asked any other questions. Fox was relieved; he had to admit that he did not – he _could _not, realistically – plan for every possible contingency. "All right," Fox said, "Everyone stay with me. We're in unfriendly skies."


	27. Chapter 27

Star Fox: Regime – a fan fiction by Wolf Reynolds  
"Star Fox" and all related characters and trademarks © Nintendo, Inc.  
Story ©2011 Wolf Reynolds

**AUTHOR'S NOTE – A LITTLE MID-STORY HOUSECLEANING (A bit long but fairly important, esp. par. 2)**  
One of my reviewers pointed out what he perceived as an error in my previous chapter, and I would like to give a little clarification. In Chapter 26, it was stated that Fox built the _Blue Marine_ with his father. My reviewer pointed out that on Arwingpedia (the Arwing wiki that has essentially been my main source for canon information apart from the actual games), the article about the _Blue Marine_ says that it was built by Slippy and Beltino. What Arwingpedia actually says is that "_Blue-Marine_ [was] … designed by Slippy and Beltino Toad." It doesn't say that they actually built it. I realize that sounds like trivial semantics, but I wanted a chance to explain myself. The statement that Fox and James built it was made intentionally, not out of ignorance of canon. Since the games (the primary sources of canon) make no direct reference to the _Blue Marine_'s builder(s), I took creative license in order to give more depth to Fox's character. I've tried to remain faithful to the canon (not including _Command_, which I and others do not consider to be canon), but if you would like to consider that a slight departure, my feelings will not be hurt; it's a small detail and, in my opinion, not important enough to the story to be worth further attention than the reviewer's statements and this explanation. I do respect my audience's feedback, and because I respect the statements of this particular reviewer (as I do for all of my reviewers), I felt that an explanation was merited.

Also, just to avoid any confusion, I would like to give a little explanation of my definition of the _Star Fox _canon. Despite my earlier statement that I was using Arwingpedia as my main non-game canon source, I'm not following it to the letter. First, as I said earlier, I am not considering _Star Fox: Command_ to be part of the canon (and I am not the only fan who is of this opinion), meaning that the Anglar Blitz and the various endings of the game are not being considered in this story. If I introduce any of _Command_'s characters, they will _not follow_ the characters portrayed in _Star Fox: Command_. From a gamer's perspective, _Command_ was a decent game with well-rounded controls and good graphics. From a story perspective, however, it was a mind-numbingly puerile angst-fest. Second, as far as _Star Fox 2_ is concerned, the game was unreleased and is called "non-canon" by Arwingpedia. However, I have borrowed certain elements from the final beta in order to fill certain gaps in the story. By my definition, the Star Fox main canon includes the games _Star Fox 64, Star Fox Adventures, _and _Star Fox: Assault_. Those games' respective instruction booklets are secondary sources. The elements that I consider to be what I like to call the "Star Fox Apocrypha" (extra-canon but not non-canon) are _Star Fox _(1993 SNES), _Star Fox 2 _(1995 SNES, unreleased), _Star Fox_ (Nintendo Power, 1993), and _Farewell, Beloved Falco_ (Nintendo, 2002). Everything else (_Super Smash Bros. _series, _Star Fox: Command_, and the German _Star Fox_ comic) is non-canon. The reason the original _Star Fox_ is extra-canon and not canon is because _Star Fox 64 _has basically the same story, and it provides more of a foundation for the rest of the canon. _Command _isn't canon, either; not because the story reeked, but because the different endings make it impossible to fit it into a unified timeline. Obviously, I am using both the canon and the extra-canon as bases for this story. Sorry for the long author's note, but I wanted to make sure everyone was on the same page regarding canon. Thanks for reading (if you did – if not, no OoC complaints later, please).

One last thing – an apology for the late update. I was working on another collaborative story, which the other authors and I had planned for professional publication, so this one had to take a back seat until I was able to hand it off to the co-author. Also, because I had so much story to cover in this chapter, it's rather loonggg… If things get a little maudlin at the end, it's because I was listening to "One Day More" from _Les Misérables _at the time.Now, back to the story:

CHAPTER 27

_Siward Plain – just west of Norantrova Spaceport, Planet Macbeth (1332 hours CCT, 2032 hours local time)_

Mixing water from the Nollion Sea with the caustic smog of the city, angry clouds billowed over the plains to the west of the Macbethian capital. The Siward Plain had once been fertile farmland, but it was now a dust bowl. Though it received regular rainfall, the taint of Norantrova had rendered it completely sterile, incapable of supporting serious agricultural efforts. Rich amounts of oxidized cobalt and mafic rocks in the soil gave the dust a bluish-black appearance, making the clouds of blue-grey dust difficult to distinguish from the lead-colored sky. The four Wolfens belonging to the erstwhile Star Wolf, sweeping in very low to the ground, left a trail of dust clouds in their wake.

Fox was relieved (and somewhat surprised) that the team had had no problems in the Mactan Corridor, but that had been the _easy_ part of this mission. Now they were on their ingress into the heart of Macbeth – fairly far-removed from the Republic, granted, but nevertheless a major city with an undoubtedly significant Republic presence. Of course, they weren't really going into the city itself; their interest was in the nearby spaceport, which was now beginning to come into view in front of them. Before very long, the four spacecraft were landing behind the spaceport's tropospheric landing strip, just outside of a chain-link fence that marked the spaceport's outer edge.

The seven of them jumped out of the ships as soon as the canopies opened; they'd had a long, tense journey, and all of them were a little cramped. Fox and Krystal stole a quick kiss. The others pretended not to notice; Fox wasn't sure if they'd have another moment before they began the operation in earnest. Besides, they were married; there was no reason for Fox to be ashamed of showing affection to his wife. The moment was over fairly quickly – too quickly, Fox thought.

They all had a job to do now. Despite having very little time to plan, they had worked out some of the details en route. They all knew there wasn't much time, but they couldn't just rush into the unknown. They still had time to reconnoiter and gather the intelligence they would need. It seemed they wouldn't have the chance. Moments after they left their cockpits, they were met by a Norantrova police cruiser. Fox drew his blaster and noticed that all the others did the same. All seven blasters were aimed at the tinted windshield of the cruiser. Something about the situation struck Fox as odd, though. It didn't feel quite right. The cruiser had come completely alone, and its lights weren't flashing. The driver-side door opened, and Miyu stepped out, hands above her head.

"Miyu!" Fox exclaimed, lowering his sidearm, "What are you doing here?" Fox turned to his teammates and calmly said, "Lower your weapons." They did so, and Miyu put her arms down. She rushed over and embraced Fox, who returned the embrace tamely.

"I was looking for you," Miyu said, stepping back and (to Fox's confusion) eyeing Krystal coldly.

"I thought you were dead," Fox said, "After what happened in Sargasso… Miyu, I'm sorry. I really did try to warn you. I didn't know you were there. If I had, we might have tried something different…" Fox was stammering, but he stopped when he heard Wolf huff indignantly. _No, he's right_, Fox thought, _We didn't have any other choice, regardless of Miyu._

"You did what you had to do," Miyu said wearily, "I can't hold that against you." She looked down, abashed, "After being here a few days, I can identify with it." Fox suspected that Miyu had had an unpleasant experience in Norantrova – with the police, judging by the fact that she had managed to commandeer a police cruiser – but he didn't want to press her about it. This was obviously a time for a clean slate where Miyu was concerned. Fox noticed that the Republic flag patch had been torn from her shoulder – on purpose, he assumed.

He had to know. He didn't want to seem callous towards her (she was obviously already under enough stress), but he needed to know her position. "So where do you stand, Miyu?" he asked gently, trying to make a cold question sound less stinging. "I need to know," he explained, "We're in a hurry. Are you with us or against us? There's no in between right now."

"With you," Miyu answered immediately. _Something terrible must have happened to her, _Fox thought, _There's more than just Sargasso behind this._

"How do we know?" Wolf broke in before Fox could say anything. Fox started to interrupt Wolf, but Wolf kept talking. "No, Fox," the pirate said, "I don't know anyone who switches sides like that. She was sending fighters after us not more than a week ago. Hell, she was ready to shoot you herself."

"Why would I risk exposing myself if I were lying?" Miyu asked Wolf in a more desperate voice, "Why would I put myself in danger here if I were just going to turn you in?"

"I don't see any danger, sweetheart," Wolf said, making a sweeping gesture with his hands.

"Well," Miyu answered indignantly, "If I can count correctly, there are seven of you and one of me. You've all got guns, and I'm completely unarmed. I _was_ hostile to you, so you've got a motive to shoot me. You don't call that danger? And besides that, I've been wandering around in this… this…" her eyes started to grow moist, "…this _hell hole_ for the last three days with no way out. Why would I lie?"

Wolf started to speak again, obviously with some sort of retort, but Krystal quickly put herself between Wolf and Miyu. "Stop it, Wolf!" she said, "Stop it. There's no point in fighting here. We don't have the time."

"But what _could _have caused her to switch sides like that?" Falco mused – apparently not meaning to say his question aloud.

Fox got close to his former teammate and looked her in the eyes. "What happened?" he asked gently.

"I don't really want to talk about it here," Miyu answered, wiping her eyes, "I just… After the old mining base exploded… Donaldson and Fisher were my two best…" she sniffled a bit, and then snorted as if refusing to allow herself to cry. She hardened her tone. "They were two of the best pilots in the fleet. Anyway, after the station exploded, the fleet left me for dead, and I landed here in this dump. Isn't that enough without the humiliating details?"

"Yes," Fox quickly said before Wolf could say anything. "It's quite enough." Wolf looked ready to argue, but thankfully for Fox, he let the matter drop. Fox turned back to Miyu and asked, "How can you help us? What assets do you have?"

"That depends on what you're doing," Miyu answered.

Fox decided it was time to go out on a limb. Wolf wouldn't like it, and Fox had to admit that revealing the plan to someone who was an enemy only a few days ago didn't seem like the smartest thing to do, but he and Miyu had flown together against Andross's missiles and had battled Andross's hordes of fighters. It was time for trust. "We're here to take the _Pleiades_," Fox said. Oddly enough, Miyu didn't seem at all surprised. Was their plan so transparent that Miyu could figure it out that easily?

Her next statement put that fear to rest. "I won't pretend to know how you got the intelligence to know the _Pleiades_ would be here, but I figured you would come here eventually to make contact with the resistance."

"I've been told all about the _resistance_ here on Macbeth," Fox huffed, "I don't think we need to go any further than that. How can you help us with the _Pleiades_?"

"I don't know," Miyu admitted, "But I think I can get you into the spaceport terminal without getting caught. We can use the security garage; I should be able to get through the gate if we take this police cruiser. I don't think all seven of you will fit, though."

"We didn't plan for all seven of us to go in at once," Fox explained. He then proceeded to tell Miyu their whole plan. His better judgment told him that he was being an idiot for laying out their whole strategy to her – and Wolf's incredulous stare didn't help that feeling – but somehow, Fox knew that Miyu would be trustworthy. He couldn't have explained _how _he knew; he just had that inner feeling. "We planned to work as two units," he went on, giving the details of the plan. It was a well-conceived plan despite the limited time that had been devoted to it. Fox, Wolf, Krystal, and Slippy were to be Unit One; they would be working directly on the ground and getting into the inner workings of the spaceport and the _Pleiades_ itself. Fox would need those three with him – Slippy for his technical expertise, Krystal for her telepathic abilities (not that he would have let her out of his sight anyway), and Wolf for… well, for his impeccable knack for getting them out of trouble.

Falco, Panther, and Peppy, the team's three best pilots, were to remain behind with the Wolfens as Unit Two. They would provide any necessary air support, cover Unit One's exit once the _Pleiades_ was theirs, and then rendezvous with the _Pleiades _in orbit. The two units would stay in contact with each other during the entire operation, with Fox and Falco directly connected via discreet two-way transmitters. Since the two units would essentially be working from opposite ends of the spaceport, they'd be able to share reconnaissance with each other. They had contingencies for numerous possibilities (and where _that _planning phase was concerned, Fox would have liked to have had _days_ of planning instead of hours) but the plan wouldn't really fall fully into place until the _Pleiades _landed, which wouldn't happen for another four hours. The team had very few absolutes they could use to plan their strategy – they didn't have the luxury of anything more than a vague timeframe, a location, and a general idea of the involved security. They had only what they had been able to glean from the Army's files, meaning that they knew (from blueprints and other such documents) the _Pleiades_ very well, but they knew very little about its schedule or crew.

Their plan certainly had downsides – most keenly, the fact that the team would be sacrificing one of the Wolfens due to the lack of an available pilot; all four members of Unit One would be needed, which left Unit Two with only three pilots to fly four ships, which was, of course, impossible. Unfortunately, they had little other choice. Miyu couldn't fly the fourth Wolfen because she would be helping Unit One into the spaceport; there was little she could accomplish with Unit Two.

"It seems you've covered everything," Miyu said after Fox finished explaining the plan. "You've been planning this for a while, haven't you?"

"Not _nearly_ as long as we'd have liked," Fox answered honestly, "There are too many things we just don't know."

"Well, I can help you to some extent with the unknowns," Miyu answered, opening the door to the police cruiser, "I can give you some information along the way, but as you said, we have little time before the _Pleiades_ arrives. It's going to take about forty-five minutes to get around to the terminal side of the spaceport; the traffic is pretty light this time of evening, but it can still be a hassle getting in and out." She gestured for them to get in the car. Suddenly, Fox felt uneasy. He couldn't explain why, but from watching the attitudes of Slippy, Krystal, and Wolf, it was evident to Fox that his teammates shared his unease. It was one thing to give Miyu details of a plan; it was another thing to give her direct, immediate control of their circumstances. Even so, Fox got in the front of the car as Miyu sat behind the wheel. Krystal and Slippy got in the back behind him. Wolf also got in the car, but not before he took a scoped blaster rifle from the cockpit of his ship. Fox had a feeling he would be glad for Wolf's near-flawless aim once they got into the spaceport; Wolf was probably the best sniper Fox knew. Fox lowered the side window glass and motioned for Panther, Falco, and Peppy to come closer.

"Keep your eyes open," he told them, "Falco, if there's any trouble, let me know. Otherwise, check in with me periodically."

"What if I can't get in touch with you?" Falco asked.

"Then give me an hour," Fox answered calmly, "If you lose me for more than an hour, then scrub the mission. Got it?"

"Scrub the mission?" Falco said, "Hell, Fox. I'm coming after you if you don't–"

"No!" Fox interrupted, "Anything that happens to any of us is going to jeopardize the entire resistance. Even giving them a chance at capturing you isn't worth the risk. The fewer people, the better." Fox repeated his order, "If you don't hear from me, then scrub the mission. Got it?"

Falco paused a long moment. Finally, with a resigned sigh, Falco said, "You'd better not get yourself killed, Fox. I've got it. If I lose you for more than an hour, we'll get outta here. But don't think I'm going to give you even one _nanosecond_ less than an hour. And I'd better not need it."

"If you do, I'll be the first to know," Fox said only half jokingly. "We'll contact you if we need air support, but hopefully that won't happen until we have the _Pleiades_. Your radio is active, right?" Fox gave him a questioning glance. Falco touched one finger to his ear and just nodded. "Good," Fox went on, "Talk to me if you see something you think we need to know."

Falco nodded, and Fox rolled up his window. He couldn't shake the nervous feeling in his gut; he was leaving half of his team behind, and he wouldn't see them again unless – _until_ – they managed to take control of the starship. Fox then directed Miyu to begin the trip; he kept glancing back over his shoulder at Falco and the others as they faded away in the distance. Before now, Fox had never fully appreciated how large a spaceport could be; he had known, of course, but it had always been just a case of going from one point to another. Now the spaceport's sheer size was putting distance – potentially dangerous distance – between him and his teammates. The nervous feeling was washing over him, and he let it; one thing he had learned from Peppy was that to be nervous was normal and even useful. However, being overly nervous often caused one to make careless mistakes – and they could not afford any careless mistakes. Fox needed details from Miyu, but he first closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. This was just another job. He couldn't let himself think of the differences between this and a normal job; the stakes were higher, the job might require him to kill a close friend, and the implications of failure would affect the entire Lylat System, but he could not let himself think of all that. It was just another job.

Satisfied that he was as collected as possible under the circumstances, Fox took his blaster in hand and checked its power cells, making sure the weapon was fully powered. If everything went as planned, he wouldn't need it; the last thing he wanted was a firefight. From the mechanical clicking sounds emanating from the back seats, however, it was obvious to Fox that his teammates had the same thoughts. The feeling was almost surreal for Fox – this was the moment to which the last several agonizing weeks had been leading, and yet he didn't feel an excessive amount of tension. Oh, he was certainly anxious, but no more than he was before any other mission. It was certainly nothing like the Krazoa Test of Fear he had once had to take – despite an inward feeling for Fox that it _should_ have been. After all of the heartache his team had suffered and after his troubling dreams, Fox should have felt his muscles pulsing with nervous adrenaline, yet he was as calm as ever. He attributed the calming effect to Krystal. Yes, this plan was going to put her in great danger, but for now, all Fox had to do was turn his head to see her sitting in the back seat. She was still within sight and basically within arm's reach.

Fox exhaled slowly and turned to face Miyu. Time to go to work. "So, Miyu," Fox asked, trying not to distract her from driving, "What can you tell us that you think we need to know?"

"Not much for small talk, are you?" she said, sounding somewhat cynical.

"Plenty of time for small talk later," Fox waved off. Oddly enough, he thought he could feel spikey waves of jealousy coming from both Krystal and Miyu. Fox didn't have Krystal's extrasensory perception, of course, but there were times when it seemed he could feel a backlash of her emotions; Fox expected it had something to do with their marriage (or rather, the consummation of their marriage). He couldn't let himself be distracted. "You were deep in the Armada. Any special procedures we need to know about going through the security area?"

"Like I said," Miyu explained, "We'll go through the security garage. There's a little bit more in the way of automated security equipment, but once we get past the main gate, we should be home free. We'll park in the security garage and go into the terminal."

"Why the terminal?" Wolf asked suspiciously, "Why not straight to the tarmac?"

"Because there's no way to get to it from the security garage without going through the terminal," Miyu said, obviously growing weary of Wolf's cross-examination. Fox didn't stifle Wolf's question; he knew Miyu and didn't believe she would harm them, but right now, he didn't trust anyone. "There's a secure area within the terminal designated solely for military personnel. We can get there from the security garage and check the security before we make any serious move. The ship will be secured in a berth-gantry and connected to the terminal by mechanical access arms."

"That presents us with a number of problems," Wolf observed. Fox noticed that both Krystal and Slippy nodded. The reason was that there was, indeed, a rather obvious problem presented by Miyu's statement: if the ship was secured to a berth-gantry, there was nothing to prevent the spaceport's security from locking the gantry down as soon as they found out something was amiss.

Miyu seemed to read their thoughts, "The gantry can be locked down from the control tower," she said, confirming their fears, "It can also be locked down from the ship itself."

"Would a lockdown prevent the ship from launching?" Slippy asked.

"What do you mean?" Miyu asked.

"Exactly what I said," Slippy answered, "If the gantry were locked down, is it strong enough to hold the ship against a forced launch?" Miyu paused as if trying to recall the answer. _I knew you'd be brave when the time came, Slippy,_ Fox thought with a smile. He gave Miyu a questioning look, conveying a repeat of Slippy's question with a mere glance.

"I don't know," she finally admitted, "Remember that I didn't actually serve aboard the _Pleiades_. Besides, I doubt it's ever been load-tested. It doesn't seem like Admiral Grey's style to cause thousands of credits' worth of damage just to see how versatile the ship is. All I do know is that every external opening of the ship is connected to the berth-gantry through access arms. If the gantry is locked down, no one gets in or out – not even Admiral Grey himself."

"So everything is funneled through those access arms," Fox said pensively, "That could be a problem. What's the security like?"

"I'm not gonna lie," Miyu said seriously, "Pretty tight. That's why they don't _need_ MPs and armed guards. You already know standard security procedures, Fox. I don't really know why you need me to tell you this. It's the same as any other Armada ship, except tighter. There're ID checkpoints to check personnel service numbers, first of all."

Fox pulled a fake military ID out of his jacket pocket and showed it to Miyu. She glanced at it, careful not to take her eyes off the road, as Fox said, "We planned for that."

"Right. I should have figured you would have someone on the inside," she mused, "Would it be too much to ask who?"

"Need-to-know, babe," Wolf answered from the back before Fox could say anything. Fox had to agree with Wolf on this one. It wasn't that he thought Miyu would betray them, but it _wasn't _something she needed to know, and the fewer people who knew the resistance's contacts, the better.

"I don't suppose I can blame you for that," Miyu said. Fox knew she would understand. He still couldn't shake the feeling, though, that Krystal was very jealous of Miyu. He couldn't say why – he had felt the same feeling when he had encountered Fara on the Battle Base Meteor, but that was different; Fox had one been attached to Fara. Fox and Fara had been romantically involved for a long time. Miyu, though, had never been with Fox. To Fox, Miyu was (and had always been) a professional friend. Perhaps Miyu saw Fox as more than that; if she did, Krystal would almost certainly sense it, but Krystal would know – or Fox _hoped_ she'd know – that Fox had lost eyes for all others. This sort of mental contest between Krystal and Miyu was something that confused Fox to no end. He supposed he would never understand women; he had thought getting married would change that, but it only exaggerated it. As long as this contest remained peripheral, Fox didn't care – it was just one more distraction he didn't need.

The ride seemed to last forever. Fox thought it was just due to the tension, but as he looked at the digital clock above the police cruiser's center console, he saw that the minutes were indeed passing quickly. Five minutes passed. Fifteen. Half an hour. Fox was beginning to appreciate the size of the spaceport. Even with the light traffic, the ride was quite a long ride. They didn't pass the ride in complete silence, of course; Miyu spent a good amount of time telling Fox everything she knew about the security, and Fox spent time conversing with his teammates over how best to proceed. Fox was considering the luck of Miyu's opportune arrival – he was learning things about the spaceport's security that weren't even mentioned in the secret files.

Fox became so occupied with planning their actions that he ceased paying attention to the ride. Macbeth's landscape was quite bland, particularly here on the outskirts of Norantrova. There were no mountains in the distance, and the clouds were a flat grey. If the sea was close enough to be seen, Fox couldn't separate it from the flat, blue plains. The only thing of interest was the skyline of Norantrova.

As soon as Fox shifted his attention away from paying attention to the ride, it went quickly. Before Fox knew it, they were going through the front gates of the spaceport's terminal area. Miyu didn't go to the regular parking lot, but instead followed the signs to the security garage. As they neared the entrance to the tunnel leading to the garage, everyone got quiet. It was as if, once they lost sight of Macbeth's daylight, the realization about what they were going to attempt finally hit them all.

Fox knew this wasn't the appropriate time for levity, so he tried to diffuse some of the tension by reminding everyone of their task. "Okay," he said, trying to hide his own tension, "Remember the plan. Everyone needs to stay as low-key as possible. We've got two hours – three at the most – before the _Pleiades _arrives. We all have to stay together," he reviewed the plan, "All of the security is supposed to be automated, but if there _is_, for whatever reason, a manned checkpoint, use your fake IDs and give the officer those order transcripts that Ge…" Fox bit his tongue. He almost gave away General Pepper's name. He wasn't yet sure that he trusted Miyu _that_ much, "Those transcripts that our contacts gave us. They show up as top-level, so they should get us past even the most suspicious officers. If there's a biometric scan, Miyu will take care of it. She's been MIA for some time, but the Defense Force doesn't take MIAs out of the database until they've been missing for thirty days. Now, let's review the procedure for once we get aboard. Slippy, Krystal, what are you going to be doing?"

"We'll be listening for your orders to activate the ship's systems and launch sequence," Slippy answered, "I will be ready to override the failsafe system if it comes online."

Fox glanced at Krystal. He hated treating her like a subordinate – she was his wife, after all; his life partner – but she knew when they married that this would happen from time to time. Krystal knew her role, though. "If Slippy can't override the failsafe, I'll be ready at the security key-slot to self-destruct the ship. If we can't have it, they can't have it." _Please don't let it come to that_, Fox thought to himself.

"Wolf?" he asked.

"I'll be covering the entrance to the bridge," Wolf said gruffly, "And keeping an eye on _her_."

Miyu bristled at Wolf's tone, but Fox couldn't afford to take any chances, even with Miyu. He didn't like the fact that he was using Miyu – and he was; he was using her to get in and then leaving her to Wolf and his itchy trigger finger – but he didn't have a choice. The cruiser finally came to a stop as it reached the security gate that guarded the entrance to the garage. Fox held his breath as the electric eye read the cruiser's registration plate, but his heart skipped a beat when the gate actually opened. Miyu nudged the accelerator and slowly drove forward into the garage, found a parking space, and stopped the engine.

They all sat in silence as Fox contacted Falco to check in. "Leader Two, this is Leader One. Falco, do you read me?"

"You're five by five, Fox," Falco answered in Fox's earpiece, which gave only a brief flick of static. "Nothing to report here. Everything all right on your end?"

"We're clear so far," Fox said, "We're getting ready to go in. I'll check back with you in an hour."

"You'd better," Falco answered, "Falco out."

They all just sat there for a moment. "Right," Fox finally said with a sharp breath, "I… I guess this is it. I wish I had something really deep or philosophical to say right now, but we don't have time for profound speeches. Let's go to work."

They got out of the car quietly, and Fox took a deep breath. He kept telling himself it was almost over, but he knew that wasn't right. This was only the beginning. They still had to get through the security, still had to get through to the ship, still had to _launch_ the ship with only a handful of people to take the controls. Even if they succeeded, they still had to take down the Republic – and taking the _Pleiades_ would be like a training exercise compared to that.


	28. Chapter 28

Star Fox: Regime – a fan fiction by Wolf Reynolds  
"Star Fox" and all related characters and trademarks © Nintendo, Inc.  
Story ©2011 Wolf Reynolds

**Author's Note:** For their heroism and bravery in protecting our freedom beyond the surly bonds of Earth, I would like to dedicate this story to the astronauts – both those who are still with us and those who made the ultimate sacrifice on _Challenger_ and _Columbia_ – of the Space Transportation System, commonly known as the Space Shuttle. The final mission, STS-135, began at Kennedy Space Center on 8 July 2011. You will never be forgotten.

CHAPTER 28

_Secure Area of Gantry #39A, Norantrova Spaceport, Planet Macbeth (1521 hours CCT, 2221 hours local time)_

Fox was in a cold sweat. He hadn't been this nervous before they had arrived, but the waiting game was beginning to get to him. He nearly smiled at the irony: he had been completely calm coming to Macbeth and getting in a police cruiser with Miyu and going through security checkpoint after security checkpoint, but now that he was through the security and, arguably, finished with the hardest part (except perhaps getting aboard the ship itself), he was a nervous wreck. Krystal gently squeezed his shoulder.

"Hey," she said calmly, "Relax."

"I'm trying," he answered, taking her hand. "I just keep telling myself that everything's going to be fine, but that's not necessarily true."

"No, it's not," Krystal admitted, "But we're going to give it our best. There's nothing else you can do, so there's no sense getting all knotted up over it. You know that, Fox."

"Yeah," Fox sighed. "It's the waiting that's getting to me." He turned to Miyu. "How long before she arrives, Miyu?"

"I don't know any more than you, Fox," she answered quietly, "It could be another two hours, or it could be any second. She's supposed to be here for a day or two. Wouldn't it make sense to just observe the ship for awhile before you try anything?"

"No. Too risky," Fox said, "I mean, jumping the gun like this is risky enough, but every second we wait is one more second for them to possibly find out what we're up to and make it impossible for us to succeed. No; it has to be now."

Slippy nodded in agreement, and Miyu just nodded. They all got quiet again as they went back to their endless waiting. Fox was quite surprised by how _normal_ the gantry's waiting area looked. He could have been waiting for a flight across-continent instead of for the flagship of the Cornerian fleet. There was very little military presence in the terminal; an occasional soldier would walk by, but it was usually a lowly corporal or some such – obviously just waiting for someone. Fox had yet to see a single officer. Not that he was complaining, of course; the fewer eyes that could give them away, the better.

Fox kept looking out at the darkened berth gantry through the large picture windows that made up most of the wall. Gantry 39-Alpha was connected to the terminal by three mechanical access arms, which would all be connected to the ship once it landed. As Miyu had mentioned, every external entrance to the ship was either sealed or connected to one of the access arms. The entrance just added to Fox's feeling that things looked uneasily normal; looking down the access arm, Fox thought it looked just like a jetway at a normal tropospheric airport, except the access arm was longer, narrower, and not as well lit. In fact, Fox thought it looked a bit rickety – a fact that made him slightly uneasy, considering the fact that it was about six or seven stories from the tarmac.

Reclining somewhat in the black vinyl bench-seat (in that sense, all airports and spaceports were alike in Fox's experience), Fox couldn't do anything except pass the time as quickly as possible. He checked with Falco, but there was nothing to report. He perused the newspaper that lay on the seat beside him, but he found that it was nothing but state-glorifying drabble. Such was the substance of the news since the coup; oh, how Fox missed a decent newspaper that wasn't state-sanctioned! It was almost more than he could bear. One thing Fox did find odd, though, was that while the newspapers consistently praised the deeds of the Premiere (usually including such titles as "The Great and Glorious Leader" or "The Beloved Father"), they never once mentioned his actual name. Fox found that _extremely_ odd. The Lylat System had been ruled by a dictator for many weeks now, and Fox didn't even know that dictator's name. Curious. This reclusive emperor was highly suspect; Fox was beginning to wonder if the Premiere had become nothing but a figurehead, doing the bidding of his bureaucrat "subordinates." The more likely explanation, Fox thought, was that he was solidifying his power by staying out of the public eye – it was easier for a leader to be seen as immortal if the people couldn't see him fall.

The time passed very slowly; by the time an hour had gone, Fox had bitten all of his claws right down to the quick. He didn't think he was worried about trying to take the _Pleiades_ (though the uneasiness of having to confront Bill still hovered in the back of his mind), but the interminable waiting was breaking his nerves. The team passed the better part of two hours in near-complete silence. With the exception of a few people walking about here and there, the terminal seemed completely deserted (with local time being near midnight, not many flights were coming in and out), so they could have talked without being overheard, but no one had anything to say. They'd all (except Miyu) spent the last two days planning and discussing the plans and figuring out everything that could go wrong and deciding what everyone had to do – Fox guessed there was just nothing more to say. No one wanted to wax philosophical about how this could be their last time together or the like; Fox couldn't dismiss such ideas as complete drabble, yet he didn't want to talk about them. He suspected everyone else felt the same – as if mentioning it would make it more possible.

After what seemed like forever, floodlights flickered on, illuminating the gantry outside. The ILS lights began flashing in sequence, brightening and dimming through the slight fog in a line towards the gantry. Fox knew a ship was coming in, but he couldn't see anything from the team's current vantage point. It seemed odd to him; with the _Pleiades_ arriving, it seemed to Fox like there should have been loud noise, like trumpet fanfare or a blaring alarm – or even the sound of his heart shattering at the sudden illumination – but the terminal was just as silent as before. Fox spoke softly, radioing the other unit. "Falco?" he asked quietly, "Anything?"

"Yeah, Fox," Falco answered back, just as quietly, "She's coming down through the clouds now. Looks like two escorts with her."

"Right," Fox said, "Go to radio silence. Next transmission will be success, failure, or call for aid. Remember the plan. Give me one hour."

"You got it Fox," Falco said. Fox heard a beep that sounded like it had come from Falco's watch. Fox prepared to synchronize his own watch. "One hour," Falco said, "Transmission ends at mark zero-one-one-five hours and thirty seconds. Three… two… one… mark." The radio went eerily silent, and Fox continued to watch the gantry outside, scanning the sky for signs of the _Pleiades_.

Finally, the telltale light began to appear and grow brighter as the ship approached. The tint in the terminal windows darkened as the light grew brighter. Fox finally caught sight of the ship itself, and then gestured to behind the large vinyl bench with his left hand. "Everyone down," he said. They all crouched behind the bench. Fox felt a bit of a rumble as the _Pleiades _came in, but as was typical of spaceports, the terminal was completely soundproof. As the _Pleiades _settled into the gantry, Fox trained his eyes on the access arm. When he heard the hydraulics begin moving the arm into place, Fox surreptitiously drew his blaster, hoping he wouldn't need to fire it. The others did the same (except Miyu, who was unarmed). The room was silent again for a few seconds, and then the silence was broken by an electronic tone signaling a successful landing. Crew members – officers, all – began coming out through the access arm. Fox expected that the lesser crewmen were exiting the ship from the other two access arms abow and amidships, but that wasn't important right now; once they had control of the bridge, which was at the stern of the ship, it wouldn't matter. If it meant they had to take Republic shipmen captive, so be it. Fox didn't like it, but he had to keep reminding himself that this _was_ a _war_. He did breathe a sigh of relief, though, when he saw Fara come through the access arm. At least she was out of harm's way now. Still no sign of Bill, though. Fox wasn't surprised; Bill _was_ the captain of the ship – he would have had to secure the ship and set the watch. It was somewhat ironic when Fox thought about "setting the watch." In the seafaring days of yore, that meant putting someone on duty to guard the ship. Now it meant arming all of the automated security and possibly ordering a few MPs to take watch positions.

Fox waited several more minutes while the departing crew members dispersed. After a few minutes, it became obvious that Bill was not leaving the ship. The terminal was deserted once again, so Fox decided it was time to make their move. He took a deep breath and held up his hand to signal the four behind him to be ready to move. He heard the preparatory click of a blaster switch from behind him – he suspected it was Wolf's. Fox then dropped his hand and made a signal telling everyone to move forward, which they did. The five of them, still crouching, went onto the mechanical access arm and stood as they walked down its length. Fox felt it shake and creak under his feet, but he didn't let the nervousness get to him. He was a _pilot_; he wasn't about to let acrophobia, of all things, ruin what was possibly the most important job of his entire career.

They all stopped at the end of the access arm, right on the outside of the starboard quarter's upper entry hatch. The bulkhead was open, rendering visible a small area of one of the ship's corridors, but Fox couldn't see much from his vantage point. Even though this door didn't lead to an airlock (this hatch was only used on-planet at a gantry like this one), only a few feet of the corridor were visible. Fox looked at Wolf, trying through his eyes to project his confidence in the pirate. _This is all you, big guy_, he thought, _Don't let us down now._ What he whispered aloud was, "Wolf, take the point."

Wolf just nodded and stepped quickly onto the ship, checking one direction and the other while aiming his blaster. "All clear," he said softly, "There'll be hidden cameras, though."

Fox boarded the ship and directed the others to follow. One of the first things he noticed was the red panic button directly beside the hatch. "Not much we can do about that," Fox answered Wolf, "We knew that already. We just have to stick to the plan. The important thing is to get to the bridge." He looked to his right, towards the forward end of the corridor. "That way," he whispered. The five of them walked briskly towards the forward side of the sternward tower that housed the bridge.

They hadn't walked very far before they heard someone say, "Who's there?" from down an intersecting corridor. Fox whipped his head to the left and saw the source of the voice running towards them. It was Bill.

"Bill!" Fox shouted. Wolf aimed his blaster. "Hold your fire!" he shouted angrily at Wolf. Bill didn't seem to react; before anyone could stop him, he ducked past them and began running for the hatch – and the alarm panel. "Wait, Bill!" Fox called after him. _Doesn't he see that it's me? _Fox's mind raced. Bill was getting closer and closer to the hatch, and despite Fox's frantic calls, he reached for the alarm panel. Fox couldn't wait any longer; he cocked his blaster as loudly as he could, aimed directly at Bill's chest, and shouted, "STOP!"

Bill froze and looked in Fox's direction, one hand aiming his own sidearm at Fox, the other halfway towards the red panic button. "Imposter," Bill accused, "You're all imposters. Don't you rebels have any compassion at all? Fox McCloud was my best friend, and he died on the _Cloudrunner_. You mock his memory."

"No, Bill," Fox said softly, "It's me. I escaped from the _Cloudrunner_. The Republic destroyed the _Cloudrunner _and everyone on it trying to get me."

"You lie!" Bill protested, shaking his gun angrily. "And _you_," he spat at Miyu, "A defector. I trusted you. What have these people told you? It doesn't matter. You can't do anything without the launch key." Fox's mind immediately noticed that Bill's eyes seemed to inadvertently glance down at his shirt pocket. It was only a glance, but Fox noticed it. _He has the key_, Fox thought.

"Drop the gun, Bill," Fox said, not raising his voice, "I don't want you to die today, and I certainly don't want to have to be the one to kill you. I'm your best friend. You said so yourself."

"No," Bill maintained, "Fox McCloud is dead."

"Just listen to yourself," Krystal pleaded, "Can you even hear what you're saying? You're lying to yourself – I _know_ you are – and you're believing it. You _know_ what the Republic has done."

"We saw Saurian wreckage in the Mactan Corridor," Fox added softly, "Your doing? More _dissidents_ like us?" Bill's countenance fell, but his gun arm didn't. Wolf's head darted back and forth, scanning nervously for any sign of other activity, but there was almost a visible ball of tense energy between Bill and Fox. "It doesn't have to be this way, Bill," Fox said softly, "Remember when we were young, and you had that model of that sailing ship? What was the name of that ship – the _White Star_, wasn't it?" Bill's ears perked up in recognition. "We spent weeks working on that damned model," Fox chuckled, "Rigged the sails ourselves. Then I broke one of the masts by accident. You remember that? You were so upset that you said you never wanted to talk to me again. Then I told you we could fix it. All it needed was a little glue and a little paint, and you'd never know it had ever been broken. This doesn't have to be different. The Federation is broken, but we can fix it."

"Fox…" Bill said, a tear streaming down his face, "It is you… You're alive." He still didn't lower his gun, however.

"Drop the gun, Bill," Fox said, "Please?"

"I took an oath…" Bill muttered, lowering his weapon slowly but not holstering it.

"To a Federation that the Republic murdered," Fox answered, "Come with us, Bill. Don't let it continue. Give me the launch key."

"I… I can't, Fox," Bill replied.

"Why?"

"Fara," Bill answered, "I can't…"

"There's no time for this," Wolf suddenly broke in. With lightning speed, he clicked a switch on his blaster, took aim, and fired. The report temporarily deafened Fox, but he saw Bill crumple to the floor in a heap.

"No!" Fox screamed, "You bastard!" He threw his fist right for Wolf's throat, but Wolf knocked it away with the butt end of his blaster pistol and grabbed Fox's wrist, twisting it so he couldn't move his arm.

"Use your head, pup," he said calmly – more calmly than Fox would have expected – letting go of Fox's arm and showing him the switch on his blaster. "I only stunned him. But he was completely out of it; you'd never have bargained with him – not in time, anyway. They're moving around out there. We've only got a few minutes, and that's if we're lucky. Now grab his key and let's get out of here."

Fox was relieved. He gave Wolf an apologetic glance. "Sorry," he said, walking towards Bill's unconscious form, "I guess I lost my head for a second there."

"We're all a bit on edge," Wolf conceded, "Let's just be done with it."

Fox opened the flap on Bill's shirt pocket. Sure enough, the key was inside the pocket. "Give me a hand," he said to Wolf as he tried to lift Bill from the floor.

"What are you doing?" Wolf said, walking towards him.

"We'll leave him in the access arm," Fox said, "It'll close up when we launch. He'll be safe there."

"There's no time, Fox," Wolf said.

"There is if we don't argue," Fox countered. Wolf shrugged and helped Fox lift Bill from the floor. The two of them carried him through the hatch and set him down about halfway up towards the door to the still-deserted terminal. Fox heard footsteps in the terminal, though; clearly, time was not on their side. "Right," he whispered to Wolf, "Let's go." The others were waiting at the hatch.

Fox turned to Miyu. "We have to go on," he said, "But that doesn't mean you do. You're still MIA. You can blend in here and no one will ever know where you are. Stick with us, and you're only going to have people shooting at you."

"I can't go back," Miyu shook her head, "Bill saw me. They'll be after me. Unfortunately, his loyalties to me aren't as personal. I think he liked me well enough, but to him I was never more than a professional subordinate. Besides," she said contemptuously, "I've already done more _blending_ in this place than I care to."

"There's no going back from here," he admonished.

"I know," she answered, "I can't go back."

That was all there was to it. Fox had hoped she would leave – she'd at least have a _chance_ at a normal life that way – but he didn't have the time to press the issue. He just hoped Miyu could live with her decision. The five of them headed to the bridge, taking the stations they had already determined. Fox carefully held the key in his hand as he stood in the center of the room. This wasn't the first time he had stood on the bridge of the _Pleiades_, but now he was its captain, if only unofficially. The moment didn't last long; soon, alarms blared and the lights turned red. "_Unauthorized bridge access!_" a synthesized voice rang over the PA system, "_Unauthorized bridge access! Intruder alert! Intruder alert! Bridge sealed. Two minutes to ship lockdown._" _This wasn't in the technical schematics_, Fox thought frantically, _I guess Bill was more prepared than we thought._ He heard Slippy mutter a curse under his breath – and if Slippy was even _muttering_ curses, it meant that Wolf was _howling_ them.


	29. Chapter 29

Star Fox: Regime – a fan fiction by Wolf Reynolds  
"Star Fox" and all related characters and trademarks © Nintendo, Inc.  
Story ©2011 Wolf Reynolds

**Author's Note: **Portions of this chapter were inspired by the OC-Remix version of "Godspeed" by The Wingless. I've seen a couple of other Star Fox writers use this one, but I tried to put it in different context and change it up a bit. There is also a Tennyson reference (from "Locksley Hall") used as a code word.

CHAPTER 29

_On board the __L.R.S. Pleiades_,_ Gantry #39A, Norantrova Space Port, Planet Macbeth (1829 hours CCT, 0129 hours local time)_

"Well, crap," Fox said aloud over the screaming alarm, more calmly than he felt. "Slippy, get to work." Fox grabbed the microphone to make an address over the PA. "Now hear this, now hear this," Fox said officially, his voice projecting to every corner of the ship through the intercom, "This is Fox McCloud. In the name of the free people of the Lylat Federation, I hereby commandeer this vessel and all of its cargo and peripherals. Those who object must immediately disembark. That is all." Fox put the microphone down. "So much for the _easy _part of stealing a starship…" he mused as the alarm continued to blare.

"_Intruder alert! Intruder alert!_" the insufferable computer voice chimed again, "_Sixty seconds to ship lockdown._"

"Slippy, see if you can shut off that alarm," Fox ordered as he sat down in the captain's chair. He scanned the screen that was inlaid in the armrest, trying to find the sequence for launch. The computer didn't give him access, though; apparently, the bridge alert had activated its encryption system. "Slippy?" Fox said, still trying to get through the password protection.

"I'm trying, Fox!" Slippy said frenetically.

"Fox, the key!" Krystal suggested over the din.

_Of course! _Fox thought. He inserted the override key he had taken from Bill in the slot in front of the screen and turned it. Immediately, the display panel's screen changed, giving him the options to "Deactivate Alarm" or "Lockout Mode." He quickly touched the "Deactivate" option, and the alarm ceased. "Well, that's good," Fox said, "But someone will have _definitely _heard that. Have they sealed the terminal?"

"Yep," Slippy said, "Wow. That only took a few seconds. At least there's no one left still on the ship," he said, verifying his information on another display panel.

"Let's start the launch sequence," Fox said, easily finding the information now that the control panel was unencrypted. "Wolf, Miyu," he said, "Forget the plan. You've both studied the control panels. Get over here. I need all four of you or we'll never get out of here before they seal the gantry." Wolf and Miyu scrambled to the two vacant control stations beside Krystal and Slippy. Surprisingly, Wolf didn't balk at all. _He must know that Miyu won't turn on us if she hasn't by now,_ Fox thought. "Internal power to 'enable'," Fox ordered.

Slippy pressed a switch and confirmed, "Enabled."

Fox then began issuing a series of commands to the four of them, with all of them answering back to the various commands.

"External power to 'disable'."

"Disabled."

"Core-to-engine plasma relay manifolds to 'open'."

"Opened."

"Engine start sequence to 'enable'."

"Enabled." Fox heard the whine of the engines under his feet as they began to come to life. He hoped there was no one on the ground outside trying to secure the ship; anyone on the tarmac would be unlikely to survive the launch. _No choice. _He _had_ to keep telling himself that.

"Deflector shields to 'enable' and prime," Fox turned to Krystal.

"Primed to two-hundred gigajoules," she answered.

"Life support systems to 'enable'."

"Enabled."

"Cartography and astrogation computers to 'enable'."

"Enabled."

"External hatches to 'close'."

"Closed."

Fox turned to the weapons station manned by Wolf. "Primary weapons to 'disable'," he said.

"Disabled," Wolf answered.

"Secondary weapons to 'enable'."

"Enabled."

"Peripheral fire support systems to 'enable' and prime. Don't fire unless they fire."

"Primed. Holding fire."

The floor shook ever so slightly as the engines turned over and surged to life. "Star flight and launch systems enabled," Slippy reported, "Life support and shields 'go', engines idling and 'go' for throttle-up, primary and peripheral weaponry 'go', navigation systems 'go'. All systems 'go' for launch."

"They're locking the gantry, Fox," Miyu said, observing the hydraulic levers moving into place above the bridge.

"Launch now!" Fox said quickly, "Slippy, one-hundred percent thrust!" The engines roared as Slippy threw the throttle lever as far forward as it would go. There was a loud creaking noise, followed by the squeal of tortured metal as the _Pleiades _began to rise in the air. In the end, the sheer power of the starship proved too great for the launch gantry; pieces of the gantry above the ship snapped off and were thrown in various directions as the _Pleiades _escaped majestically from its prison. "Leader One to Leader Two," Fox said triumphantly, "We're rising through the mellow shade."

"Roger, Leader One," Falco called back, his beaming smile evident in his voice. "We're on our way."

As the ship climbed higher, Miyu observed the status panels indicating the statuses of various ship components. "We're passing through the area of maximum dynamic pressure on the ship," she reported, "Altitude ten thousand meters."

_Now for the real test_. Fox thought, _If Bill locked changes out of the system, this is where we go plunging back down. _He had to give the order, though; the engines would melt if they continued firing at full thrust like this. Fox sighed and said, "Engines throttle back to fifteen percent thrust. G-diffuser system to 'enable'." At only fifteen percent thrust, the plasma engines would not keep the _Pleiades_ airborne; this was the moment – always somewhat unnerving for Fox, but absolutely terrifying in this particular case – when the gravitational diffusers had to come online and break the effects of Macbeth's gravitational pull. Because of the way the G-diffuser system worked, there was no way to monitor its status unless it was active – meaning no one could tell whether it was working unless it actually started working. This was always the most dangerous part of launching a ship (any ship, and the _Pleiades_ was no exception); the engines had to be throttled back to prevent the G-diffuser's start sequence from being overloaded, but in that condition, they couldn't provide enough lift to keep the ship in the air. If Bill or anyone else had tampered with the system or encrypted it with extra security – both of which were real possibilities – the _Pleiades _would be hurtling back towards Macbeth's blue soil in a matter of moments. The engines wouldn't have a short enough reaction time to throttle back up before the ship crashed, the explosion likely taking the three Wolfen fighters with it.

The whine of the engines lessened as the throttle closed, and Fox began feeling the falling sensation of weightlessness as gravity started to catch the ship. After an everlasting instant, though, Fox's weight settled again. "Enabled," Slippy announced with a smile.

"Leader Two to Leader One," Falco's voice came through to Fox's ear, "Looks like we've got company."

"Roger, Falco," Fox said, "Krystal, enemy fighters on the plot?"

"Affirmative," she answered with a nod, "Two squadrons. They're priming weapons."

"Well, that's not very nice," Fox mused, "They could have at least _tried_ telling us to stand down before firing. How's the comm-line to Unit Two?"

"Green for all three ships," Krystal answered.

"Put Falco on," Fox said. Falco's image appeared on the ship's main viewscreen. "Looks like eight on three, Falco. You ready for some furball?"

"You know me, Fox," he replied, the eagerness visible on his face.

"Draw them into the ship's range," Fox said, "and we'll see if we can even the odds for you a bit."

"Bah," Falco huffed, "You never let me have any fun. There's only eight of them."

"I promised Katt I wouldn't let anything happen to you," Fox said, purely for meanness.

"I'll get you, Fox," Falco said. There was a sudden flash behind him. "No time right now, though. They're firing. They're not military, Fox – the livery on these fighters looks like local police, but there could be some Civil Guards in there."

"Return fire," Fox ordered. He turned to Wolf and said, "Activate the peripheral fire support system."

"Right," Wolf said, "Should I prime secondary weapons?"

"Probably," Fox answered. "Krystal, put the tactical display on the screen, please."

"Right away, Fox," she answered. Fox watched the tactical plot as Falco, Panther, and Peppy battled the police fighters. Watching a dogfight on a tactical plot was always a weird feeling for Fox; all he saw was three blue arrows and eight red arrows moving through a grid, ducking and weaving around each other. It seemed so impersonal compared to the actual fight – each of those three blue arrows represented a close, passionate friend who was fighting for his life. Fox didn't like watching dogfights. He wanted to be _in_ the fight. Inwardly, though, he knew that his place was here on the bridge of the _Pleiades_. He had spent days – weeks – planning for this, ever since Wolf first presented the idea. He had stayed up during the wee hours of the morning studying launch protocols, learning the ship's functions, and studying its operations. No one else outside of the Republic military knew the _Pleiades_ as well as Fox. As much as he wanted to be in the fight, he needed to be right where he was.

_Outer Atmosphere, Planet Macbeth (1836 hours CCT, 0136 hours local time)_

Explosions riddled the sky around the _Pleiades_ as Falco and his two wingmen fought the police fighters. Falco was made for this. He was fighting to survive, but he was finally getting a straight fight instead of ducking cops, sneaking around, and hiding in abandoned airbases. Although he was more familiar with the Arwing used by the Star Fox team, Falco certainly wasn't uncomfortable in the cockpit of the Wolfen. In fact, he was beginning to take quite a shine to it.

"Falco, check your six!" Peppy said frantically over his radio, "Behind you, behind you!"

Falco whipped his head around, trying to see directly behind him – he couldn't, of course; his head just didn't work that way. He was a falcon, not a bloody owl. He leaned to his left, craning his neck in an attempt to see his pursuer, but to no avail. "Damn," he cursed, yanking the control stick of his fighter to the left to barrel-roll away from a laser blast. "I can't see him," he said, "Can you get him from there?"

"Sorry," Peppy said, a nearby explosion breaking his transmission for a moment. The signal quickly recovered, and Peppy said, "I'm a bit busy at the moment."

A laser bolt flew past Falco's canopy, causing his fighter to rock violently to the right and just barely missing his right stabilizer. "Panther," he called into his radio, "Get over here!"

Out of nowhere, Falco saw Panther's rose insignia as it whizzed past him, coming within inches of his canopy. "Right with you, Falco," Panther called, "I've got him."

"Just don't hit _me_," Falco appealed. An explosion behind him bumped his ship forward. He quickly regained control, and Panther flew out ahead of him.

"All clear," Panther said, "That leaves seven." The battle raged on and on. Subconsciously, Falco knew the fight's developments were occurring within seconds, but the glorious furball match seemed to go on and on – which was exactly how Falco wanted it. They had to repel these fighters, though, and they were making only precious little headway, with Peppy destroying one ship.

As the dogfight progressed, Falco began to notice that their three Wolfens were getting further and further apart – and further away from the _Pleiades_. "We're starting to get strung out, guys," Falco called into his radio, "Try to draw them back in range of the ship's guns."

"Roger," Peppy answered.

Another laser blast zipped past Falco's fighter. "You've picked up another one, Falco," Panther said, "I can't help you this time."

"Peppy?"

"Sorry, Falco," Peppy called back, "You're on your own."

"Nothing for it, then," Falco said, mostly to himself. He banked his craft ninety degrees to the left, air-braked as hard as he could, and pulled all the way back on the flight stick. He had hoped the police pilot would fly right past him, allowing Falco to move in behind for the kill. Unfortunately, Falco underestimated both the other ship's maneuverability and its pilot's reflexes. The enemy pilot remained firmly behind Falco. Although the police fighter couldn't get a clear shot at him, it was only a matter of time. _These __have__ to be Civil Guards, _Falco considered, _No__ local police departments have pilot training like this._ Falco persisted, though. He rolled his craft into an inverted position and pulled back on the stick, launching into a split-S maneuver. Falco quickly began redding out from the sudden burst of negative Gs. Not letting his bloodshot eyes distract him, Falco pulled his craft level and banked hard to the right, the police fighter still tightly behind him. He kept spiraling, flying in clockwise circles as tightly as his ship would allow. He still couldn't outmaneuver the enemy pilot. Then Falco slammed forward on the throttle and rolled 180 degrees to the left, pulling the airbrake hard. The enemy pilot didn't anticipate this maneuver and flew past. Falco's adrenaline-driven pilot senses took over, and he seized the opportunity in that deadly instant. He banked hard and stabilized instantly, dropping in directly behind the enemy pilot. "Eat this, scumbag!" he shouted, firing his laser. The fighter in front of him burst into flames and then exploded violently.

Clear of the enemy pilot, Falco pulled up into an Immelmann turn and rushed back towards his wingmen and the _Pleiades_. There were now five enemy fighters to their three, but the fight didn't feel any less intense. Even as he got in close, Falco had trouble distinguishing individual events – not because he had redded out, but because the action was just too intense for one pair of eyes to follow. He did see a piece of Peppy's ship explode, though. "I'm hit," Peppy said.

"You all right, Pops?" Falco asked, looking left towards Peppy's flagging ship.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he answered, "But I don't think there's much more I can do out here. Looks like stabilizer damage."

"Clear, then," Falco said, "We can handle it. Get back to the ship."

Peppy apologized for having to leave the fight, then banked shakily towards the docking bay of the _Pleiades_, a trail of smoke streaming from the tail of his fighter. One of the fighters gave chase and was hit by the guns on the _Pleiades_. "Just you and me, _hermano,_" Panther said over the radio.

"All right, losers," Falco said, turning his fighter towards the hull of the _Pleiades_, "This time, _we_ make the rules!" Panther sidled up to Falco's wing and gave him a thumbs-up from his cockpit, and the two of them flew to within a few meters of the starship's outer plating. The police pilots had no choice but to follow, but in doing so, they brought themselves within range of the ship's fire support system. One enemy fighter exploded immediately, and another was hit. Falco targeted the gyrating fighter, destroying it easily. The other two enemy pilots, now facing two aces and the superior firepower of the Cornerian flagship, apparently decided that the odds were no longer in their favor. They pulled away from the ship, inverted, and began descending towards the planet's surface. Falco watched over his shoulder for a few moments, and the enemy pilots didn't seem to have any interest in returning to the fight and throwing their lives away.

"Falco," Fox said over the radio, "We saw Peppy land and the other ships are heading down. What's going on?"

"Looks like they're bugging out, Fox," Falco answered, "Guess they figured we weren't worth it. We did shoot six of 'em down, after all."

"Nice shooting," Fox complimented, "Think they're coming back?"

"Not a chance, Fox," Falco answered, "Not now that they see the ship's guns online. I think we made it."

"I think you're right, Falco," Fox answered, "I think you're right. You guys get back here."

The next few minutes were a blur to Falco; as he came down from the adrenaline high, Falco wasn't very aware of what was going on around him. He and Panther landed in the docking bay – and, seeing the damage to Peppy's fighter, Falco considered just how lucky Peppy was to be alive at that moment – and headed up to the bridge.

Fox slapped Falco on the back as he came onto the bridge. It was a somewhat surreal feeling; this had been the object of their schemes. They had planned for it, talked about it, and argued over it, and now, all at once, they had completed it. Falco remembered thinking when Fox had first mentioned it to him that the _Pleiades _would be a great ship to get their hands on, but that they didn't really have any serious chance of being successful – yet now he stood on the ship's bridge, and not with MPs holding guns on him. Fox's harebrained scheme had actually worked. Oh, they weren't Scot-free just yet, of course; the Republic wasn't likely to just sit still and let one of its most prized possessions slip right out of its hands. Still, they now had the _Pleiades_. The firepower of the _Pleiades_ was superior to every ship in the Lylat System – including the ships of the Cornerian fleet. Corneria had numbers on their side, but they now had firepower, a central base that could easily move from place to place, and a virtually unassailable fortress. Falco had thought he would feel relieved at this point – and, to a certain extent, he was; no one was shooting at him anymore, at any rate – but instead of feeling overly relieved, he was somewhat overwhelmed. The capture of the _Pleiades_ had thrown into sharp relief the idea that their fight was only now beginning, but they had a new tool for the fight – one that gave them a fighting chance.


	30. Chapter 30

Star Fox: Regime – a fan fiction by Wolf Reynolds  
"Star Fox" and all related characters and trademarks © Nintendo, Inc.  
Story ©2011 Wolf Reynolds

**Author's Note: **Once again, I feel the need to apologize for such a slow update. I've tried to work on this, but life just keeps getting in the way. Hopefully, I'll be able to make more swift updates in the future, but I'm not going to make promises I just can't keep; things are pretty hectic right now, and with the holiday season just round the corner, it's only going to get more hectic. Still, I will update as I am able.I've received some feedback on some of my previous chapters, and I'm trying to keep it in mind as I continue the momentum. I've received a very intelligent critique from someone who saw this fan fiction as a little too dark for the Star Fox series that he loved so much. I've had a lengthy discussion with this person, and we're on good terms, but he did give me pause. What I would like to say is this: when I started writing this, I wanted to (as I told this person) take the series I had always loved as a kid and make it sort of "grow up with me." With that, my intention was to make it a bit darker and edgier than a lot of the Star Fox stuff out there but without going _too_ far. There will be some lighter moments from here, but there will also be some parts of the story which are still very dark. If you have any suggestions, please let me know, but keep in mind that I already have most of the story in my head already. Now, moving on:

CHAPTER 30

_On board the __F.L.S. Pleiades_,_ Area Four - Macbeth/Papetoon Transorbit, in the Mactan Corridor (0214 hours ship time)_

The _Pleiades_ ambled its way through the empty space between Macbeth and Papetoon. The initial rush of the successful capture of the ship had worn off, replaced by nervousness. In the few short hours since they had taken the ship, Fox and his team had had to repel six separate fighter attacks – for one of those attacks, the ship's guns weren't sufficient, requiring them to scramble the two working Wolfen fighters. One thing was becoming more painfully clear to Fox with each passing moment: they couldn't just wander through space with their prize. They needed to organize a better defense and cover their tracks. Fox expected that the enemy attacks would decrease in number as they flew further from Macbeth, but he knew that the Republic was now hunting him more fiercely than ever before.

Still, Fox considered all of their recent successes, the most important (and most obvious) of which was their successful capture of the ship. They had gained Miyu, whom Fox suspected would be an important ally in the coming days. They had scoured the ship's databanks and had found a wealth of useful information – one of the more notable pieces from a duty log detailing an incident with Saurian messengers informing the Republic of Sauria's secession. Fox had relayed that information to the resistance. While Katt insisted that they would need to keep a large number of operatives on Corneria, she had agreed with Fox in that it would probably be a good idea to move the core of the resistance – which they had decided to properly name Free Lylat – to Sauria.

For Fox, that represented something about the resistance that he needed to know: they were able to make decisions very quickly. Fox worried, though; with Sauria declaring secession (even if relatively few people knew about it yet), this was likely to become a full-scale civil war. If that was the cost of overthrowing the Republic, Fox supposed they had no choice, but he had hoped there would be a better way. As a mercenary, Fox had seen more than his share of war; it wasn't at all the glorious, romantic thing that uninformed writers and actors tried to make it. War was filthy and ugly – it represented the ultimate breakdown of diplomacy, and in this case, a total and complete failure of the government. Fox had heard the stories from Katt and had seen the situation in Norantrova. The story was the same throughout the Lylat System: where the Republic was not exercising total military authority, anarchy reigned – cops traded favors for "justice," public officials (enabled by the letter of Republic law) catered policy to those who pandered to their interests, and most places were just generally lawless.

It was enough to make Fox weep. The Federation – the solid rock that had protected its people from oppression and nurtured the free will of the people – was dead, replaced by the monstrosity that dared call itself by the name of "Republic." The Republic was an affront to everything Fox held sacred, but nothing hurt him more than knowing that most who defended it did so not by choice. The Republic had its unsung heroes – Bill Grey, for one; in Bill, Fox saw the face of promise for a better future. Bill was someone who would staunchly defend his country to the death, even at the expense of a longstanding childhood friendship. He couldn't fault Bill for that; divided loyalties were not easily overcome, especially when Fara was added to the equation. The worst part of it was that Bill wasn't the only one in that situation. Fox knew that for every Republic soldier who died, mothers and wives and children grieved. Every Lylatian who died by Fox's hand would be etched forever as a black mark on his soul.

Fox felt trapped, even as he stood in command of the ship that brought him a new sort of freedom. What he commanded now was a weapon of war – a war he didn't want to fight. He _wouldn't_ fight it if there was a way out. If he had thought that turning himself in would prevent a war, he would have done so without a second thought – it pained him to think of what that would do to Krystal, but he would rather die to save her than force her into a war wherein _she_ could be killed. It wouldn't matter, now; Fox was nothing more than a pawn. He still couldn't figure out why the Republic was willing to destroy three thousand people on the _Cloudrunner_ just to get to him, but he was no longer as important to the Republic – though he suspected that the military would pay more attention to him now that he controlled the _Pleiades_.

Fox was forced into the war now, though; when news of the Saurian rebellion reached the capital, Fox knew the Republic's response would be swift and merciless. The Saurians – a civilization that had become a symbol of Lylatian diversity and culture – would be crushed, their way of life destroyed by the Republic Defense Force. Very soon, all eyes would be on Sauria – and on her king, Tricky. Fox had come to Tricky's aid twice before when his planet was in danger. Now Sauria was in danger once again, and Fox could do no less than he had done before. Still weak from the Aparoid incident, Sauria was defenseless. Tricky had to have known that a Saurian rebellion could end in nothing but disaster, but Fox knew that Tricky understood one very important thing that the Republic didn't grasp: the dictate of the people. Tricky would not have expelled the Republic's ambassador unless his people had demanded it. Unfortunately, it seemed that an escalation to outright hostility was now unavoidable unless Fox managed to work quickly.

Fox rubbed his uncooperative eyes as he took a seat in the hard-earned captain's chair of the _Pleiades_. He let out a deep sigh as he stared through the windows into the void of space. Everyone aboard was tense and nervous, and all of that nervous tension in the air was weighing Fox down. He imagined that everyone else felt the same. They all knew what was at stake; Sauria was the crux of the current crisis, but it certainly wasn't the only aspect of it. What happened on Sauria would determine much about the course of events in the coming days.

In a way, the expulsion of the Republic's ambassador on Sauria had forced Fox's hand a little earlier than he had hoped. Sauria's crisis meant one thing: the resistance would no longer be able to remain underground. Certainly the Republic _knew_ of the existence of the resistance movement, but as of yet, they had been unable to locate its secret headquarters – and they couldn't have known of General Pepper's part in the resistance, or of Beltino Toad's membership. Very soon, the general and the Cornerian research director would be in the same plight as the rest of the resistance; once the resistance became public, their roles as double agents would no longer be possible or practical, meaning that the resistance would lose the bulk of its inside support.

Fox turned to Krystal, who was standing directly behind him, to articulate some of his thoughts. Before he could give voice to his musings, however, Miyu called for his attention from behind.

"Fox," she said. Fox immediately turned to face her. "Looks like trouble," she announced, "I've got two capital ships on the plot, bearing two-three-zero, zed axis three-eight, closing fast."

"Battle stations," Fox ordered as Krystal rushed to return to her station. As the red alarm lights came on, Fox turned to Krystal and ordered, "Prime shields to maximum power."

"Primed," Krystal answered.

"Any more information on the approaching ships?" Fox asked.

"Give me a sec," Miyu said, listening for signals on her headset, "Plasma signature sounds like _Challenger_ class. One is no match for us, but two…"

"Any chance they're here on routine patrol and don't know we're here?" Fox asked. He was answered by a violent jolt as a yellow concussion missile blazed past the windows, exploding harmlessly against the energy shield.

"I don't think so, Fox," Miyu answered dryly.

"Can we outrun them?" Fox asked Slippy.

"Not in our current configuration," Slippy answered, "The power drain from the weapons and the shields is too much."

"What if we could increase the power to the engines?" Fox asked, desperate for a way out as another missile exploded against the shield.

"No," Slippy answered, checking the calculations on his display, "Not without compromising the ship's structural integrity. Not to mention we'd be totally defenseless."

No options. Fox sighed. They _might_ be destroyed if they stayed and fought; they _would _be destroyed if they tried to run. Even the _Pleiades_ wasn't invincible, it seemed. "Bring us around and heave to, Slippy," Fox said ruefully. So there was to be _more_ killing. "Primary weapons to 'enable' and prime," Fox ordered. Wolf immediately complied, and Fox added the command, "Hold your fire." Wolf nodded. If Fox was glad for anything at the moment, he was glad that Wolf had vested his trust in Fox's abilities as a commander. This would never have worked if Wolf and Fox were still fighting over who gave orders. Fox turned to Miyu again. "Anything?"

"I think I have the primary IDs now, Fox," Miyu answered, "It's the _Challenger_ and the _Katina_. Do you need the registry numbers?"

"Not yet," Fox answered, his brain working furiously on a way out. "Open a hailing frequency to the _Challenger_," he asked, "Audio only." Miyu nodded, and Fox spoke into the communication microphone, doing his best imitation of Bill's lightly-accented voice – thick with only-half-mocked irritation. "Captain of the _Challenger_, this is Admiral Grey speaking," Fox said, "Are you aware that you have just fired on the flagship of the People's Armada?"

The gruff voice of the enemy captain came over the speakers. "Do not take me for a fool, Commander McCloud," he said, "We received the news of the theft of the _Pleiades_, and we know you and the other rebels engineered the theft."

"Your orders are superseded, Captain," Fox said, continuing in his imitation of Bill without wavering, "I don't know who issued them, but there is nothing out of the ordinary here. Everything is under control."

"My orders come from the highest level, _Admiral_," the captain spat back, "Prepare to be boarded."

Fox maintained his calm, but he knew he was losing control of the deteriorating situation – unless, of course, he could come up with an alternative. "I don't have time for these games, Captain," Fox said, "We're on a very tight itinerary that happens to be a matter of national security. If you don't get out of my way, I'll be forced to open fire – and in spite of how much I hate the paperwork, I won't hesitate to do just that. However, if you will give me three minutes to realign the sensor arrays, I can transmit the fleet's security code for authentication."

There was a heavy moment of what seemed like endless silence. Finally, the captain's voice came over the speakers. "Very well," he said, "Three minutes. Any attempt to escape will bring about your destruction."

Fox made a cutoff motion over his neck, telling Miyu to cut off the communications with the Republic battleship. "Miyu," Fox said, "Put the resistance on the screen. I don't think I need to tell you to use the secure channel. And align the sensor arrays to transmit to the _Challenger_."

Glad that no one was questioning his harebrained scheme, Fox sat back down in his chair and waited for Katt's image to appear on the main view screen in front of him. "Fox," she said, "I hope this is important. We were getting our key personnel ready for the move."

"I can see that," Fox nodded as he saw people moving boxes back and forth behind Katt, "Trust me, it's important. I need Beltino on the line right now. It's a matter of life and death."

"Hold on a second," Katt said, "I think I can help you there, surprisingly enough."

Fox heaved a sigh of relief as Beltino appeared on the screen. He was even more relieved to see that Beltino was sitting in his office at his computer. "Fox," Beltino said, "I told you it was dangerous to contact me here."

"I know, I know," Fox apologized, "And I wouldn't, but we're in a bit of a spot here."

"I'm sure," Beltino answered, "Your team's most recent escapade has caused quite a stir here."

"That's why I'm calling," Fox answered, "If you don't want us to get blown out of the sky, then please send me the fleet security code. I've got an impatient battleship captain over here who is calling my bluff."

"Oh, dear," Beltino said, "Well, we can't have _that_, can we?" Beltino punched a few keys on his keyboard to send the information to Miyu's terminal. Fox was very glad that the _Pleiades_ was still able to interface with the Republic's network without being tracked – though he _was _rather curious of how these two ships had managed to find him. That was a problem for another time, though. "It should be coming through now. I've also given you the command codes to the _Katina _and the _Challenger_; you can use those codes to disable their shields if they decide that the security code isn't enough."

"Beltino, you are a life saver," Fox said, grinning from ear to ear. "I don't know what we'd do without you."

"I can't let you get killed," Beltino said with a dry chuckle, "Who else would keep Slippy in line for me?"

Slippy huffed, but Fox could hear the father-son affection between the two. "Thanks, Beltino," Fox answered, "We'll see you on Sauria whenever you get there. Fox out."

Beltino nodded as his image disappeared from the screen. "Okay, Miyu," Fox said, "Are those sensor arrays aligned yet?"

"They are, Fox," she answered, "Whenever you're ready."

"Good," Fox answered, "Transmit the code and reopen the channel. Keep the command codes as a last resort." Fox spoke back to the _Challenger_'s captain: "Captain, the code should be coming through now. Are you convinced now?"

"I am not," the captain answered, "But regulations tell me that I must be. I am a man of my word, Admiral. Continue on your present course."

"_I _am the admiral, _Captain_," Fox said. He had played this game long enough to know that he had to _keep_ his bluff even after it had succeeded. "_I_ give the orders here," he said, "You are to stand down immediately and set course to Macbeth for debriefing. Is that clear, or will a general court-martial be necessary?"

After a few moments, the captain's voice came again, still gruff but finally acquiescent: "Quite clear, Admiral. Setting course for Macbeth." The communication ended, and everyone on the bridge heaved a collective sigh of relief as the two battleships came about and lumbered off in the opposite direction.

"You do realize you just sent those punks right to Admiral Grey, don't you?" Wolf asked gruffly.

"I know," Fox answered, "I guess it was my own quiet way of keeping Bill from being marooned on that dust ball. Stand down from battle stations." The harsh red lighting was replaced by the familiar softness of pale fluorescent light. Fox turned to Miyu and asked, "What happened, Miyu? I thought this ship was supposed to be a fortress. Are you telling me that we can't take two _Challenger_-class battleships?"

"All I said was that I wasn't _sure_ about two, Fox," Miyu answered defensively, "We can take on an entire battalion of fighters and probably three or four capital ships at one time, but not without taking damage ourselves."

"Yet you're uncertain about taking on two battleships?" Wolf broke in.

"I'm not," Miyu assured him, "I have no doubt that we _could_ have taken those battleships, but we would have sustained at least some damage ourselves. Are you prepared to _repair _battle damage?"

"You let _us_ make those decisions," Wolf countered.

Miyu looked to Fox for reassurance. Fox didn't want to contribute to what was shaping up to be another brawl between Miyu and Wolf, but he had to agree with Wolf in this instance. "I'm gonna have to back Wolf on this one, Miyu," Fox answered.

"Don't you trust me by now?" Miyu said, hurt. Wolf scoffed at the question.

"It's not a matter of trust, Miyu," Fox replied, waving Wolf off with his hand. "It's a matter of logistics. I know you may not realize it, but we're better equipped than you might think. I know you can understand the chain-of-command concept. It's just as important to us as it is to the military. There are too few of us to be able to afford dissent amongst ourselves."

"Fox," Wolf broke in, standing up. Fox looked over his shoulder at Wolf. "A word with you alone?" Wolf asked, motioning with his head towards the sternward door to the bridge.

Fox just looked at Wolf for a few moments, then got up from his chair acceptingly and followed Wolf into the aft corridor leading to the bridge, muttering, "Slippy, you have the conn," as he left. "What is it, Wolf?" Fox asked impatiently as the door to the bridge slid shut.

Wolf held up his hand in a pensive motion, sounding almost hesitant as his spoke in his typical gruffness. "I… You know Miyu better than I do, Fox," Wolf said, "I'm just… getting a bad vibe, if you catch my drift. I dunno. I've been in this business a long time, Fox. I was in the same skies as your dad," Wolf continued emotionlessly, forgetting how much those skies had _cost_ Fox's dad, "I guess what I'm saying is that when you've been in this as long as I have, you… learn to read people. Y'know?"

"Exactly what are you suggesting?" Fox asked; not angrily, but trying to understand Wolf's logic. "Do you think Miyu is still tied to the Republic? How could the Republic's people have known enough about our plot for this ship to put a spy in with us?"

"I didn't say _that_, pup," Wolf slowed Fox down, "I'm not saying Miyu's a spy; I'm just saying that there's more to her than we know. Have you looked at how she can _completely_ change tones? Sometimes she's like ice, and other times she's like a love-struck kitten – _that _one's directed mostly at _you_; don't think I haven't noticed. When Krystal talks to her, though, she might as well be talking to a snowman. Maybe it's none of my business, but when she was on the Star Fox team, was there ever… anything between you and Miyu?"

"Well, that _isn't_ any of your business," Fox agreed, "But I don't suppose there's any harm in telling you there wasn't. I don't know – you think she's got some kind of _feelings_ for me?" Fox asked, surprised.

"Hell, Fox, you've certainly got a way with the ladies," Wolf shrugged, "I envy you and Panther that talent sometimes, honestly. But that's not really my point. My point is I don't think I trust her, and I'm not sure you should either."

"I _know _her, Wolf," Fox said, "That sort of trust takes time to build. I'm just asking you to give her a chance, for the sake of harmony."

"Hmph," Wolf scoffed, "Why should I? Give me one _logical_ reason."

Fox admitted, "I can't." He paused and looked into Wolf's eye and said, "But I remember when I put _my_ trust in someone who had been my enemy. That person nurtured that trust and showed confidence in me in return – and he's a person I'm now very proud to call my friend," Fox paused, seeing Wolf's hardened face soften a little. "And _he_ crashed my honeymoon, the jerk," Fox joked. Wolf couldn't help but suppress a chuckle.

"As I recall, it's a good thing he did," Wolf answered, "Else you'd've been raining down on Sauria in little sticky pieces instead of heading there in the Cornerian flagship. All right," Wolf acceded, "We'll give her the benefit of the doubt. Let's get back to work." Wolf turned back towards the door of the bridge, giving Fox a friendly pat on the shoulder.

"All right," Fox said dryly as he re-entered the bridge and sat back down, relieving Slippy of the conn, "Now that we're past that little battleship incident, let's get a report." He turned to Krystal and asked, "How bad were we hurt, hun?"

"I'm reading no damage, Fox," Krystal answered as she scanned her panel, obviously checking to make sure she was giving him the right information. "Only two of their missiles actually hit us," she reported, "And they didn't get through the energy shields."

"How are the shields holding up?" Fox asked.

"The shields are fine," she replied, "Negligible effects from the missiles. The first missile caused a five-gigajoule fluctuation on two grid sections of the starboard bow, but the field arrays corrected it automatically. No loss of hull _or_ shield integrity."

"Good," Fox said. "Now for the real question," he continued with a smile, "Is anyone _else_ curious as to how our three pilots slept through the whole ordeal?"

"You know Panther," Wolf huffed, "When he's not running his mouth, he's usually sleeping."

"Sounds like Falco," Slippy replied, "I think he could sleep through _anything_."

"Not to mention they're all so very tired," Krystal said more seriously, "I don't think I could force myself back into one of those fighters after this whole ordeal."

"We may all have to, before it's all said and done," Fox said sadly, "Probably sooner than later. Once news of the rebellion reaches Corneria, it's going to be a mad rush if we want to save Sauria. By capturing the _Pleiades_, we've pretty effectively cut off a big chunk of the fleet's communications. By doing that, we've managed to buy Tricky _some_ time, but he's going to need our help." Fox turned to Slippy with more officiousness than he should have felt – giving orders from the bridge of the most impressive ship in the star system had a tendency to have that effect – and said, "Slippy, re-engage the engines and continue on course for Sauria at maximum speed."


	31. Chapter 31

Star Fox: Regime – a fan fiction by Wolf Reynolds  
"Star Fox" and all related characters and trademarks © Nintendo, Inc.  
Story ©2011 Wolf Reynolds

CHAPTER 31

_The Great Capitol of the Republic, 113__th__ Floor – Capital District, Corneria City, Planet Corneria (1422 hours CCT)_

The Great and Glorious Leader of the Democratic People sat in his chair and viewed Corneria City through the large window on one wall of his plush office. He pensively studied the domain he had created for himself, watching the speeders and other vehicles whirr back and forth through the air and on the streets far below. It brought a thin smile to his wrinkled primate face. Ironic, he thought, that Saru Farad – a self-proclaimed servant of the people – should succeed in building the empire that his grandfather and uncle – the despots of the Oikonny line – had failed to build. Andross and his nephew had been fools; empires built on invasion and external threats never stood the test of time. Saru was an opportunist: where members of the Oikonny clan had attempted to reach their goals by throwing militaristic tantrums, Saru had built a reputation for himself and had climbed the political ladder through years of maneuvering and careful manipulation. Oh, that maneuvering had not been easy, to be sure; the mere fact that he was related to the much-hated Andross forced Saru to redouble his efforts many times. In spite of the difficulty, though, Saru had become the Emperor of Lylat in all but name. At least, he had become Corneria's emperor. The rest of Lylat would inevitably follow – assuming that Fox McCloud and his cohorts stayed out of the way. Saru scowled at the thought. It was hard for him to believe that he had once been associated with that band of bootlickers.

Saru hated Fox McCloud – so smug, so miserably self-righteous. McCloud had always made such a big show of being distant and separate from the military, yet as soon as General Pepper snapped his fingers, McCloud always came running; not to get his hands on a nice, fat paycheck, of course, but to be a good and noble servant of Lylat. Yet for all of McCloud's buttering up of the general, he seemed to have no sense of ambition whatsoever; he seemed perfectly content to drift around Lylat in his dilapidated starship and let his teammates rot. Saru had been one of those teammates once. That was a closely-kept secret, of course – known only to Saru and to the Star Fox team itself. Not even General Pepper knew of _that_ connection, and Saru intended to keep it that way. Indeed, Saru's days with Star Fox would seem hardly worth mention save for the scars on his face. His time with the team had been brief, but in Saru's way of thinking, not brief enough. Young McCloud had no respect for his age or experience, yet the insufferable vulpine hung on every word that passed Peppy Hare's lips. No matter; now _McCloud_ was the hunted.

McCloud was becoming quite a thorn in Saru's side, though, and Saru intended to see that the thorn was removed. The supreme dictator pressed a button on the intercom on his desk and spoke a simple order into it with his marred, scratchy voice (another "gift" of his brief stint with Star Fox). He didn't say a name to get anyone's attention; his administrative assistants were paid – and paid well – to pay attention to him every moment he was in his office. He spoke only the order: "Send in Admiral Grey and General Pepper at once."

A simple reply of, "Yes, Your Excellency," came from the nameless female voice on the other side of the intercom system. Saru scowled again. Admiral Grey and General Pepper were, unfortunately, two of his most popular commanders. Both were exceptionally fine leaders – and both had questionable loyalties. The _disadvantage_ to creating one's empire by being a "servant of the people" was that one did _occasionally_ have to throw the people trifles and trinkets as tokens of sincerity. What couldn't be settled by trinkets and trifles could, of course, be settled by Civil Guards and soldiers. Saru wasn't completely certain he could trust General Pepper or Admiral Grey – in fact, he was fairly certain he could _not _trust them – but that was a problem for another time. He had to settle McCloud first, and he needed General Pepper and Admiral Grey to do it.

_The 113__th__ floor of the Great Capitol, outside of the Office of the Premiere_

Bill couldn't quell the butterflies in his stomach. Meetings with the premiere always made him nervous, but after his shortcomings on Macbeth, he expected that _this_ meeting would be even less pleasant than usual. The fact that the premiere had summoned both him _and_ General Pepper made him even more nervous. General Pepper's equilibrium didn't seem at all affected, though, so Bill decided all he could do was take it as it came. The secretary opened the door with a switch at her desk and said, "You may go in now."

The two officers went into the premiere's office and stood rigidly in front of his desk. "Gentlemen," the premiere began calmly, standing up and walking around his desk to stand directly in front of them. "I can't begin to express the depth of my disappointment. How can I reestablish peace and order throughout the Lylat System if my commanders continue to allow themselves to be confounded by rogues and rebels?"

"Sir, I can ex-" Bill began, but he was quickly cut off when the premiere raised his hand for silence.

"No," the premiere said firmly, "I did not summon you here for excuses. What I want from you, gentlemen, is _results_. We now face civil war because of your lack of diplomacy. You, Admiral, made a mess of things in the Mactan Corridor." The words hit Bill like knives. He _had_ made a mess there – in more ways than he expected the premiere meant. Premiere Farad continued, "Your rash actions have destroyed any chance we might have had of negotiating with the Saurians. Now we must bring them back to the Republic by force." Bill wanted to scream. He had, after all, been following orders. The premiere hadn't finished reminding Bill of his deficiencies, though. "Then there's the matter of the _Pleiades_," he said gravely, "Imagine my surprise, Admiral, when I learned that the most advanced ship in our entire fleet had fallen into the hands of rebels. In addition to costing us several _billion_ credits' worth of state property, you have _given _the enemy our most powerful weapon. If that became public knowledge, Admiral, you would be court-martialed, tried for treason, and most likely executed." Bill winced. Execution was no more than he deserved, certainly, but hearing it put to him by the Lylatian head of state, and in front of General Pepper… The premiere continued, though. "However," he said, "Since this matter is not up to the public, I am going to give you a chance, Admiral, to clean up the mess you have made. Admiral Bowman has, unfortunately, seen fit to resign his commission as the admiral of the fleet, and I have to have _someone_ to replace him. If not for your otherwise-immaculate service record and your impeccable demonstrations of command abilities on Katina and in Sargasso, you would be in the holding cells beneath this building, but I am going to give you that second chance. Perhaps with the resources of the entire fleet, you will be more successful in routing out these mercenaries and rebels. You will also have the chance to bring order back to Sauria and… _convince _them to rejoin the fold, peacefully if possible. Understand, Admiral, that this is not because _I_ have confidence in you – because I don't. If I could truly have my way, I'd sooner have you piloting a garbage scow in the Bolse Sector than give you a big promotion. However, the _people_ have a great deal of confidence in you, and I respect the will of the people. That is all, Admiral. You are dismissed," Farad waved him away with his hand. As Bill walked away, he turned around as the premiere spoke to him once more. "And Admiral," the premiere said, "I will not be as… tolerant… of future mishaps. Is that clear?"

"Very clear, sir," Bill nodded, "Thank you, sir." Bill left the premiere's office. He didn't feel the relief that he should have felt; the premiere had essentially _forgiven_ him for his blunders around Macbeth. Not only that, he had just given Bill a _major_ promotion; he had made him the admiral of the entire People's Armada. Bill should have been not only relieved by that, but thrilled – yet he wasn't. Instead, he felt even more anxious and confounded than when he had first arrived. The promotion he had just been given meant that he would be responsible for the deaths of _more_ Saurians – and, since all of the data logs and records aboard the _Pleiades_ were now compromised, he would very likely have to face Fox McCloud in that conflict. He wasn't sure he could do that. Fox had been dead to him after the _Cloudrunner _incident, but since then he had seen Fox face to face – alive. The premiere accused him of handing a weapon to the "enemy," but Bill was no longer clear who the enemy was. The only _enemies_ he had encountered were Fox McCloud and Saurians – neither of whom were people he considered enemies. Yet he _had_ to consider them enemies because the State he was sworn to serve considered them enemies.

It was too much for Bill's mind. The dilemma was enough to leave him grasping at straws just to hold onto his sanity. As Bill stepped into the elevator and began the long ride down to the ground, he cleared his mind save for one thought: getting home to Fara. He needed her right now. With Fara, his anxiety subsided.

_On board the __F.L.S. Pleiades_,_ Area Seven – Interplanetary Space, near Planet Sauria (1403 hours CCT, 1803 hours local time)_

Fox paced nervously back and forth on the bridge as the massive spacecraft began to slow for its approach into Sauria's orbit. Krystal could hardly bear to watch him like this. She could feel his pain and his anxiety – not just through her typical empathic abilities (through which she could feel how anxious _everyone_ was), but through the special connection she shared only with her husband. And he felt pain – oh, so much pain. Fox's pain was great enough to make Krystal want to weep – great enough, for that matter, to make a _stone_ want to weep. The worst part of it for Krystal was that there was nothing she could do to help him except simply _be _there and do the best she could.

The ragged band that was Star Fox had established a chain of command a long time ago, but as Fox captained the new starship they had acquired, that chain was now stronger. That was a good thing, Krystal supposed, but since the capture of the _Pleiades_, everything had become so stuffy and serious. Certainly the situation called for a fair amount of seriousness, but Krystal felt like everyone had become a bit disconnected. Fox and Wolf didn't seem to be at odds anymore, but they barely spoke to one another at all except to give or receive orders. The situation wasn't much different for anyone else, for that matter. They'd all become so… _military_. Krystal was worried; this sort of situation was _supposed_ to bring them all closer together as friends. She _wanted_ to kindle those friendships – with Slippy, the other teammates, Wolf, and even Panther. There was also Miyu – and Miyu had her eyes on Fox; Krystal could see that even if no one else could. Still, Miyu was – or at least seemed to be – on their side, and Krystal could appreciate that, at least.

Krystal couldn't bear to watch Fox deteriorate. The stress was killing him, and it was obvious that he knew it; his reddish hair was now streaked by more than one strand of grey. The worst of it was that there was no way out – for Fox or anyone else. Even if Star Fox gave up the fight and let Lylat rot (and rocks would likely sprout wings before _that_ happened), they were all hunted – and had been since the coup. For them, there was no staying out of the fight, for it was their fight and always had been. She wanted Fox back – he was supposed to be hers, and through no fault of his own, he couldn't be. The Republic had stolen him from her; for that, she hated the Republic, but she'd have gladly given up that hatred if it would free him from this fever he was under. She just felt worthless – she, out of everyone else, should have been the _one person_ who could help Fox, yet she was powerless to do anything except watch him suffer.

In her despair, Krystal looked up from the ship's console; through the windows, she saw a beacon of hope – the same beacon that had led her to her Fox: Sauria. The beautiful planet, hanging in front of her like a jewel-bedecked pendant in a brilliant necklace of stars, renewed her sense of purpose. It also renewed her resolve against the Republic. She had read the report of the Mactan incident and knew all about the death of Malonga Sha and his wingmen. Krystal would not let Sauria be destroyed. Sauria glowed like a torch in the darkness of her doubt, and the Republic now threatened to extinguish that torch. She _would __not_ let that happen! Not while she still drew breath. Eladard, Sauria's sister planet, cast its light across the background of space, backlighting Sauria with a faint blue glow. Sauria and Eladard formed a binary in this distant corner of the Lylat System – two remote and wild worlds, both in need of protection.

"Slippy," Fox finally said, "Reduce thrust and settle into Lagrange orbit at L-1." Krystal knew the wisdom of the order; settling the ship at the Lagrange point between Sauria and Eladard would minimize the need for station-keeping, reducing the output of the plasma engines and thus making detection more difficult for any Republic ships entering the system. Krystal was quite proud of herself for the technical knowledge of spaceflight she had gained during the almost three years she had known Fox. Slippy complied with the order, and the ship began to slow down. Fox spoke into the ship-wide intercom: "Falco, Panther, Peppy – I need you guys up here on the bridge." He turned to Slippy again and asked, "How many landing craft are in the docking bay, Slippy?"

Slippy lightly touched a few buttons on the console to check. He wasn't much of a pilot, Krystal thought, but Slippy _did_ have an uncanny knack for starship operations. "Two," Slippy finally answered, "But this ship is carrying the Space Dynamics PT-204 model. It's rated as a six-man transport. There should be plenty of room. They're in the starboard hangar bay."

"Good," Fox answered as Falco, Peppy, and Panther entered the bridge. Fox turned to Peppy and said, "Peppy, I want you, Wolf, and Krystal with me." He then addressed Falco: "I'm leaving you in charge up here, Falco. Keep a close eye on things. We may not have much time before the fleet arrives. I'll try to contact you in about four hours, if not sooner. I want to take a close look at the setup the resistance has."

"What if the fleet shows up?" Falco asked.

"Contact me immediately," Fox replied dryly, "Then we can _both_ cluelessly wonder what to do next."

"_That's_ your brilliant plan?" Falco asked cynically.

"If you have any better ideas, I'm all ears," Fox said, irritated.

"I wish I did," Falco grumbled.

"You have the conn, Falco," Fox said in a lighter tone, "Don't let me down. Call me if there's a problem."

"Right, Fox," Falco answered as Fox turned to go.

Krystal stood and rushed to Fox's side as he and the others walked off the bridge. The corridors of the _Pleiades_ seemed so lonely; the last time Krystal had been aboard, there had been shipmen and officers darting about here and there. The ship had been abuzz with activity. Now she and the others were the only ones here. _Fox, my darling, you must relax, _she thought. _This tension will only get people hurt_. Fox couldn't hear her thoughts, of course; even physically joined to Fox through marriage, Krystal's extrasensory abilities were not _that _strong. Even though Fox couldn't _hear_ Krystal's thoughts, Krystal was able to communicate _feelings_ with him through her thoughts. Her urges for him to relax would soothe some of his anxiety. Fox obviously noticed – he immediately turned his head to look at Krystal and gently kissed her neck as they continued down the corridor towards the hangar bay.

The hangar bay was large and impressive. Krystal had never seen anything quite like it. She'd never been to this particular part of the _Pleiades_, but it accounted for a significant portion of the ship. At the far end was the hangar's gaping maw, illuminated by the light of the Lylat Star reflecting off of Sauria and Eladard; only a force field protected Krystal and the others from the absolute cold of space. In the hangar bay was a metal walkway, suspended over the empty space of the launch area, that separated the two landing craft. Above was a catwalk, which was flanked by about twenty fighters, including the two Wolfen spacecraft.

Krystal's eyes continued sweeping the giant hangar bay; she wasn't sure why it impressed her so much – maybe it was because it was one of the few creations of the Lylatian race that still made her feel small. She was distracted by the hiss of hydraulics as the door to the shuttle opened. She looked at Fox, holding his hand while she waited for him to enter the spacecraft. He didn't go in first, though; he nodded at Wolf, who entered the ship and sat in the front seat, at the controls. Krystal went in after Fox, who first deferred to Peppy. The three of them sat on the cushioned benches on either side of the ship's small interior. Slippy had been right; there _was_ room for six, but only just – and that assumed that the pilot was one of the six. The interior of the shuttle was lit very dimly; the only light came from small lighting strips on the floor and from the computerized instrument panels up front.

Krystal adjusted herself, trying to get more comfortable on the black leather cushion, as Wolf slipped a headset over his head up front. Krystal gripped Fox's hand more tightly; she wasn't scared, exactly, but she had begun to feel a sort of nervous energy building up within her. She presumed some of it came from Fox; her empathic bond with him did work both ways, after all. Being honest with herself, though, she had to admit that some of it – _most _of it – was her own. Some of it, too, was sadness. This wasn't exactly what she had intended for her return to Sauria. She was glad to be returning to Sauria, but once again, she was returning there because of an impending crisis. She had to be there, though; even if she couldn't stop the crisis, maybe she could help them prepare for it. If there was even the chance that Sauria would survive, she had to kindle that chance as carefully as she would a dying ember.


	32. Chapter 32

Star Fox Regime – a fan fiction by Wolf Reynolds  
"Star Fox" and all related characters and trademarks © Nintendo, Inc.  
Story ©2012 Wolf Reynolds

**Author's Note: **First, I would like to address the lack of updates. I really do apologize for the lack of updates, but the holidays threw me off, and then when I got back to work, everything just went crazy. I'm fully into the life of a college professional now – not just a simple tutor. I've been tutoring almost 30 hours a week, I'm doing research, and I'm even presenting lectures. As far as future uploads are concerned, I've completely finished the story, so it won't get hung up anymore. Updates should be a little more regular now, since I've finished a few chapters ahead. We're getting fairly close to the end here, so I just have a few more chapters to finish before the whole thing's done.

I have a couple of details I need to clear up from the last chapter here, for those of you who might be a little fuzzy. First, a brief lesson in astrophysics (someone please tell me if I got this detail wrong): when Fox ordered the _Pleiades_ into "Lagrange orbit at L-1," that meant that he was ordering the helm to insert the ship into an orbit where the gravitational forces of Sauria and Eladard – two planets forming a binary – would have equal influence on the ship. L-1 orbit, at least on a perpendicular orbital plane, is one of the most stable planetary orbits possible (again, I'm assuming perpendicular – detail sticklers, there's no need to bring up the halo orbit) – as we observed from Krystal's thoughts, this would reduce the need for station-keeping thrusters, making the ship less detectable.

Second, the canon details: Saru Farad was a character in one of the unreleased betas of _Star Fox 2_. ("Farad" was just a last name that I made up to go with the character.) It's possible (just speculation on my part) that Saru eventually evolved into Dash Bowman in _Star Fox: Command _or into the pilot of the Sarumarine vehicle in _Star Fox 64 _(the boss of the Zoness level). Although the game never implied a relation to the Oikonny line, I created it based on the character's striking physical similarity to Andross. As for the planet Eladard, I have to admit that I took some creative license with it. I decided that Eladard is, indeed, a wilderness; this wasn't the case in _Star Fox 2_ (the planet's only in-game appearance), in which the planet was an industrial world. I had already taken Macbeth in that direction, so I needed a second remote world to fit into the role of Sauria's binary partner (which I needed to make my Lagrange tactic work, among other things).

Sorry for the long, boring explanation for stuff that you guys probably don't even care about. Back to the story:

CHAPTER 32

_Aboard Transport #2, Starboard Bay __F.L.S. Pleiades__ – Sauria-Eladard Lagrange L1, Area Seven (1438 hours CCT, 1838 hours local time)_

The dim lights of the transport shuttle's instrument panel illuminated the underside of Wolf's muzzle. He shifted in his seat, futilely trying to get into a more comfortable position. After a few moments, he finally found a spot which was… not _comfortable_, precisely, but tolerable. He sensed Fox getting a bit agitated – that hotheaded fox would be the death of him, he was sure – and Wolf himself, in truth, was ready to be underway. A fairly long flight lay ahead of them; after all, they couldn't simply descend to the planet's surface and land. They'd have to make a few orbits to ascertain at least some of the situation on the surface before landing. Despite the obvious need for some urgency, Fox was being careful not to rush in blindly. Wolf could applaud him for that, he supposed; maybe the pup _wouldn't_ make such a bad commander in the end. It had taken Wolf years of failure and loss – including loss of his eye – to learn some of the same lessons.

Wolf was on edge, like everyone else. He was ready to get down to the planet's surface, meet with the resistance, find out what the hell was going on, and get about three days' worth of sleep – and he wouldn't have minded skipping straight to the sleeping part. Well, there was no time to worry about that now. The sooner he got the transport down to the planet, the sooner he'd be able to rest. He spoke into the headset he was wearing.

"_Pleiades_, this is Transport Two," Wolf said, "Ready for takeoff. Who've I got on that end?"

To Wolf's surprise, it was Slippy who spoke up. What surprised Wolf even more was that he was actually somewhat _pleased_ that it was Slippy. He didn't get along particularly well with Slippy – and Slippy wasn't a bad guy, really; Wolf just couldn't identify with him very well – but in terms of technical expertise, he wouldn't want anyone but Slippy talking him through the launch and landing procedures. Wolf had never piloted this type of ship before, and Slippy seemed very familiar with it. The only reason Wolf was flying instead of Slippy was because Slippy was needed too much on the bridge; Slippy just couldn't be spared.

"Slippy," Wolf said following Slippy's answer. "I think I've familiarized myself with the controls somewhat, but I'll need you to talk me through this process."

"Okay, Wolf," Slippy answered, "I'll do my best. Have you found the thruster controls?"

"I'm not sure," Wolf answered, scanning the control panel in front of him and taking tight grip on the flight yoke, "Wouldn't I just use the wheel and throttle lever?"

"No," Slippy answered confidently, "The flight yoke and throttle control the arcjets and the plasma engine. Somewhere on the control panel in front of you, there should be an analog control pad. Don't you see anything like that?"

"Uhh…" Wolf scanned for a few moments more; he'd take a fighter over this any day. His eyes finally found a control stick of some kind; it wasn't the pad Slippy had mentioned, but it was the only thing on the panel that looked like a thruster control. "Well, there's a joystick here," Wolf said and read the label above it, "It says, 'Reaction Control System.' Is that it?"

"Yeah, yeah," Slippy answered, "The RCS controls – that's it. They must've updated the 204. Just on the right of that should be the G-diffuser system panel. See it?"

Good. An easy one. "Yeah, Slippy, I see it."

"Okay," Slippy said, "I'm gonna release the docking clamps and the mooring beams. As soon as I do that, turn on the G-diffuser. Your annunciator panel will flash once when I let you go, but you'll feel it, too. You ready?"

"Go ahead," Wolf said, keeping an eye on the controls. A second later, just as Slippy said, a light on the panel flashed once to indicate that the ship had been released from its moorings. Wolf didn't need the warning light; the ship lurched slightly, and Wolf momentarily felt the weightlessness of orbit. He quickly activated the G-diffuser system and immediately felt his weight settle again. "Done," Wolf said, "Free and clear to navigate."

"Right," Slippy said, "Now use that joystick you found on the RCS to nudge yourself away from the dock just a little."

"Thrusting port," Wolf said. He gave the control stick a tug to the left, giving the starboard thrusters a quick burst. The transport slowly drifted away from the metal dock where it had been moored.

"Okay," Slippy said, "Now thrust forward a bit, towards the open end of the docking bay. Not too much; I haven't opened the energy field yet. Just drift towards it. Is your plasma engine online yet?"

"Yeah," Wolf said as he nudged the ship forward, "It's warmed up." Slippy was obviously working on the bridge; he was humming a tune to himself – which Wolf found extremely annoying, but didn't say anything – and babbling various things (obviously to himself and not to Wolf). Red lights began to flash all throughout the docking bay, from which Wolf surmised that Slippy was about to open the energy field that separated the transport from open space.

"I'm going to open the field now, Wolf," Slippy announced, "Bring your plasma engine up to about twenty percent power and push yourself away from the ship, then just align your orbital plane with Sauria and power up to a hundred percent until you have enough delta-V for orbital insertion."

"Whoa, whoa, Slippy!" Wolf said frantically, "Basic Cornerian, please. I'm a pilot, not a bloody astronaut!" _Why the hell am __I__ the one in this cockpit?_ Wolf suddenly found himself wondering.

"Just relax, Wolf," Slippy answered, sounding oddly like a weary schoolmaster, "Just push the transport out of the docking bay. I'll give it to you from there. The docking bay has a magnetic no-wake zone, so you won't reach full power until after you've cleared the launch area."

"Right," Wolf sighed. He pushed the throttle lever forward, and the ship began to accelerate as it moved towards the exit of the docking bay. Upon leaving the _Pleiades_, the transport accelerated rapidly and moved away from the giant starship. After Wolf was certain that they were clear of the _Pleiades_, he pulled the throttle into reverse and halted the forward momentum of the spacecraft. Wolf wasn't normally given to spontaneous moments of being moved by natural beauty, but the celestial vista that unfolded before him was enough to elicit a sense of wonder.

The green and blue hues of Sauria filled the left side of his view, while Eladard, with its dark purples and deep blues, filled the right. The two planets were locked into their gravitational embrace, and Wolf could only gape in awe as he bore witness to the eternal drama that unfolded among the stars in front of him. It was a beautiful sight, and Wolf never saw the beauty in much of anything. But the two planets that did their still, silent dance in front of his eyes made him see that there was beauty in the universe. He had passed this way before – had seen this planetary dance before – but never had he really stopped and just looked.

For the first time in his life, Wolf found a worthy cause. It hadn't been McCloud; Fox had earned Wolf's respect, and he had to admit that he was even beginning to grow quite _fond_ of Fox, but Wolf doubted he'd ever stick his neck out for McCloud (or for anyone but himself, in truth). There had been that business with the Aparoids, of course, but that was because he'd had nowhere else to go, and throwing his lot in with Fox McCloud had seemed the most sensible course of action at the time. That had been just as true with the fight they were in now, at first. Since then, though, Wolf had begun to see that this fight was bigger than just him. Casting his lot with McCloud had begun as a matter of mere survival, but it had become something much larger: friendship. Wolf had never had friends; he had always had associates. Seeing Fox and Krystal together, though, made him realize that no one was ever meant to be completely alone. Their relationship was a beautiful thing that Wolf often secretly envied; he wished he had someone to love – someone to nuzzle his neck when he was lonely, or someone to put a frightened head against his chest to feel safe.

"Wolf?" a voice behind him said, "Wolf?"

Wolf snapped out of his pensive state and turned to see Fox, the source of the voice. "Slippy's trying to say something," Fox said.

"Wolf, are you there?" Slippy said.

Embarrassed, Wolf spoke into his headset. "Yeah, Slippy," he said, "I'm here. Sorry." _I'm definitely getting soft_, Wolf shook his head. _I'm trying to get us down to the planet in one piece, and here I am picking daisies and pondering questions of the universe. I'm turning into some kind of accursed philosopher._

"Good," Slippy answered, "I thought I'd lost you for a second there. There should be an information screen on the right side of the console with an alphanumeric keyboard and several softkeys on either side of it."

"I see it," Wolf said, "It's got several options available. What am I looking for?"

"There should be an 'align planes' option somewhere," Slippy replied, "See it?"

"Yeah," Wolf pressed the button, "Now what?"

"Type 'Sauria' into the keypad. It should be in the databank," Slippy explained, "Once you do that, press the return key, select 'standard orbit,' and select the 'align and insert' option. The G-diffuser and the plasma engine should automatically do the rest."

Wolf had been following Slippy's instructions the whole time, so when he pressed the softkey next to "align and insert," the drone of the ship's engine grew louder, and the ship began to accelerate. "Good, Slippy," Wolf said, "The ship just started moving, and I didn't touch the throttle lever."

"That's exactly what's supposed to happen," Slippy stated, "The autopilot should have control now. Once you've settled into orbit, the plasma engines will cut off, and the planet's gravity will keep you moving. The 204 doesn't have orbital motion dampeners, so you'll orbit the planet instead of just hovering. Got it?"

"I think so," Wolf answered. He had to admit, it was a lot of information for a simple pilot to consider. Wolf was a mercenary and a fighter pilot – fighter pilots just pointed their ships in the right direction and throttled up; they never had to worry about "orbital insertions" and "aligning planes" and whatnot. "I think we'll do two orbits to assess the situation. If we need more, I'll let you know."

"Sounds good," Slippy said, "Contact me when you're ready to deorbit. I doubt you'll want to do that on your own." _Great_, Wolf thought, _And I thought we were done with the hard part_.

"I'll do that," Wolf said, "Transport Two out." Wolf switched off the headset. Slippy could still contact him, of course, but Wolf sincerely hoped he wouldn't. He just wanted quiet. Just because Wolf had grown to not disliking Slippy as much didn't mean he wanted Slippy's voice in his ears the whole time they were in orbit. Wolf didn't mind Fox or Krystal or Peppy, but there was something about Slippy's high-pitched, somewhat-geeky voice that made Wolf want to pull out his blaster and shoot himself in the face.

The small spacecraft didn't take long to reach orbit. Sauria's brilliance filled the windows of the spaceship. Wolf knew they were moving thousands of kilometers per hour, but the landmasses of the planet above seemed to float by like clouds. The controls felt heavier and heavier to Wolf as the transport entered planetary orbit. "Slippy," Wolf called, "We're starting first orbit now. Do you see any problems I need to know about?"

"No, Wolf," Slippy replied, "Everything looks good from here. No annunciator lights or anything like that on your end, right?"

"No," Wolf answered, "Everything looks normal here. Do you think we'd be close enough for short-range communications with the resistance, or should we do two full orbits like I said?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, Wolf," Slippy said, "You could give it a try, but I don't have any idea what frequency you'd use. I doubt the resistance has had time to set up its heavy equipment, and Sauria's communication systems aren't particularly sophisticated. They just achieved modern spaceflight last year, remember."

"Okay," Wolf said, "We'll give it a try, then. Or do you think we should de-orbit first?" _I doubt he's used to anyone seriously asking his opinion_, Wolf thought cynically. In truth, he was asking that particular question because he was hoping he could head down to the surface _without _having to spend time in orbit.

"You could go either way, Wolf," Slippy said, "I'd say it's your call."

"Well, I was really hoping you'd be able to venture some sort of opinion," Wolf said irritably.

"If you really want my opinion," Slippy began. _Finally,_ Wolf thought agitatedly, _he's getting the message. Took him long enough. _"If you really want my opinion," Slippy said, "I don't think you need to waste time doing two full orbits. You're not going to see anything from orbit, I don't think. The resistance can't have been able to set up anything _that_ big. I don't know where you'd be landing because I don't know where the resistance is. Fox says they need to be our first contacts, not the Saurians."

"I'm just a little concerned," Wolf answered, "This is a Republic transport, after all. Is there any chance the Saurians have some sort of ADEZ in place?"

"I doubt it," Slippy replied, "Besides, you should be in communication range well before you're close enough to be hit by any crude air defenses they might have set up."

"Screw it, then," Wolf said, finally fed up with the indecision. "I'm landing now. What do I have to do?"

"Well, you have to contact the resistance first," Slippy answered, "You can't really do this right if you don't know where to land. You'll have to find the resistance first. If they're on the other side of the planet, you won't be able to contact them yet. This is a somewhat backwards planet, remember. There aren't any satellites to relay your signals. You'll need to swing the front of the ship towards the planet and just keep trying to make contact with the resistance until you get something –"

"Okay, okay," Wolf interrupted, "I get it. Let's just go. I'll call you again when I'm ready to leave orbit. Transport Two out." Wolf turned off his connection to Slippy; he changed the frequency of the radio. Just when Wolf thought he _might_ be able to get along with Slippy…

Wolf took hold of the flight yoke and turned the nose of the spacecraft towards the planet. As the ship turned retrograde, the ship's windows were filled with the brilliant blues and greens of the Saurian landscape. Wolf had passed through this sector more times than he could count, but he couldn't remember having ever actually been to Sauria itself. He'd _seen_ Sauria plenty of times, but he had never actually been there. He knew, however, that Sauria was mostly wilderness.

Over the next few minutes, the cabin of the spacecraft grew dimmer and dimmer as the spacecraft crossed the planet's terminator, and Sauria's wild state became more apparent; there was very little light emanating from the night side of the planet. A few scattered villages dotted the planet's surface, but they were both small and sparse. There was no static over the radio, and no one aboard the transport was speaking; the journey was utter silence.

Wolf turned around and asked, "How're we doing back there, kids?" In truth, he didn't particularly _care_ how they were doing, but he needed some way to break up the monotony.

It didn't help much. Krystal was too engrossed in the planet to reply, old Peppy looked to be just barely even awake, and Fox just shrugged and gave a noncommittal "just fine."

Wolf just shrugged and swiveled his seat forward again. He hadn't really cared, anyway. Finding a spot on the dashboard free of buttons and switches, he propped his feet up, crossing his arms behind his head. Wolf had never liked waiting. He was certainly _capable_ of playing waiting games; he wasn't impetuous or hotheaded like Panther and Falco – why _did_ the most skillful pilots have to be so utterly reckless? – but he had never liked it.

After an indeterminate time – it could have been minutes, hours, or days, for all Wolf knew – Fox finally spoke up and said, "Wolf, why don't you try contacting the resistance? You ought to be able to reach them by now."

Taking his feet down from the dashboard, Wolf tried to answer, but nothing but a scratchy squawk emerged. His throat had apparently locked up a bit in the dry, controlled atmosphere of the spaceship. Slightly embarrassed, Wolf cleared his throat and said, "Sure. What was the prearranged radio frequency?"

"One-two-one point niner," Fox answered, "Call sign Setback One." Surprised by Fox's swift answer, Wolf set the COM1 channel on the radio stack to the appropriate frequency. _My, my,_ Wolf thought, _Aren't we the trusting soul?_ Fox had never learned how foolish trust was. Less than a year ago, Fox and Wolf had been shooting at each other; now, after Wolf had made a mere few token gestures of good faith, Fox disclosed sensitive information without the slightest hesitation. Fox had always been putty in his hands.

Wolf slipped the headset back on. "Breaker one-two-one-niner, breaker one-two-one-niner," he said, "Setback One to Cloudrunner Base. Come in, Cloudrunner Base. Come in?" Several seconds passed with no response. At Fox's urging, Wolf tried again. "Cloudrunner Base, this is Setback One. Please come in."

The static-riddled response of what sounded like a female voice came through the earphones on Wolf's headset. "…back One… Clou…. ..ner Base… ..rea…"

"Cloudrunner Base, Setback One," Wolf said, making some fine adjustments to the transmission receiver array. "Boost your signal gain. I didn't copy that. Please repeat transmission."

The static cleared through the next transmission. "Set… …ack One, Cl… …drunner Base, reading your transmission. How do you read?"

"Cloudrunner Base, Setback One," Wolf replied, "Your signal is five-by-five. Go ahead." Wolf ended his transmission, then scowled. "_Go ahead"? _he thought, _I__ called __her__. I'm all turned around…_

"We've been expecting your call, sir," the unidentified female replied, "Switch to subspace transponder and select secure channel seven."

"Setback One, switching," Wolf answered. Upon switching the ship's communication system to the secure channel, a holographic image of the speaker appeared in front of him. Before Wolf could say anything, Fox butted in as he saw the image.

"Fay!" Fox exclaimed, "_You're_ the resistance contact?"

_Another__ girl? _Wolf thought in surprise, _Wow, Fox – you certainly did get around._

"Sure am," Fay chuckled, "It's been awhile, hasn't it? We can catch up later, though. There can't be much time before the Republic fleet arrives."

"Exactly right," Wolf broke back in, refusing to let Fox seize control from him. He didn't mind Fox leading this little party – well, he _did_ mind, but he was resigned to it – but right now, Wolf O'Donnell was the one sitting at the control panel, which meant that he would be the one in control. "Now," he continued, "We need to make contact as soon as possible. Where are you?"

"I'm transmitting coordinates now," Fay answered, "You can begin your descent as soon as you're ready."

"Anything I need to know about the approach?" Wolf asked, "I'm not going to have a boatload of missiles coming at me, am I?"

"No, you should be fine to come straight in," Fay answered, "We'll see you on the ground shortly."

"Roger that," Wolf said, reaching for one of the overhead switches to get Slippy back on the radio. He wasn't about to attempt de-orbiting this pile of bolts without someone to talk him through it. "Setback One out."


	33. Chapter 33

Star Fox Regime – a fan fiction by Wolf Reynolds  
"Star Fox" and all related characters and trademarks © Nintendo, Inc.  
Story ©2012 Wolf Reynolds

**Author's Note: **Bam! Double whammy. You guys get two chapters today just for being awesome readers and sticking with me even through the gaps – and also to show you that I do indeed plan on finishing this thing. Enjoy.

CHAPTER 33

_North Landing Platform – Cloudrunner Fortress, Planet Sauria, Area Seven (1602 hours CCT, 2002 hours local time)_

Stretching as far as his safety belt would allow, Fox craned his neck to look over Wolf's shoulder and through the windshield of the transport craft. For the last twenty minutes or so, Fox had watched the beautiful Saurian landscape unfold before his eyes. Although the night rendered the landscape mostly dark, the pale moon and more-distant Eladard cast a pale light over the surface of the planet, illuminating it enough to be seen. This planet was special to Fox. It had been where he faced the Test of Fear and had conquered many of his demons. Sauria had been where he had learned the most about how to survive in the wilderness – how to observe the world around him and feel the life-force of all that was good. And it was where he had found Krystal. Fox felt a touch of wistful sadness; since he and his team had first saved Sauria by defeating Andross, Fox had returned to Sauria twice – both times for the purpose of saving the planet again.

Fox shook his head. This was no time to be sentimental. He saw the tall silhouette of Cloudrunner Fortress looming in the fog just ahead. So this was where they would make their stand. The fortress was a wise choice for the resistance to use as its base of operations. Fox had originally expected the resistance to establish their operations in the Walled City. However, the more Fox reflected on it, the more logical a choice Cloudrunner Fortress seemed. Unlike the Walled City, Cloudrunner Fortress had no wide areas for large ships to use as landing sites – only a few landing pads that were inadequate for anything much larger than fighters and small personnel transports. Another strategic advantage that Cloudrunner Fortress had over the Walled City was its maze of tunnels and its cavernous subterranean vaults. Fox had been to Cloudrunner Fortress before, but it had been detached from the surface and orbiting the planet. With the fortress now firmly in place on the planet's surface, the lowest sublevels would be a stronghold buried hundreds of feet beneath the surface – impossible to bombard from space, and nearly unassailable from the surface due to the defensibility of the fortress itself.

_It wouldn't be a stretch for the Republic to cut off our supplies, though…_ Fox thought grimly. He chided himself for the thought. It wasn't like him to be so pessimistic. The fortress _was_ highly defensible, and he had no doubt that the resistance would defend it admirably. Additionally, Cloudrunner Fortress was the base of operations for the Saurian Air Force's illustrious 64th Cloudrunner Wing, known to most as "Her Majesty's Own" – the personal air guard of the Queen Cloudrunner herself. Whatever the queen's rivalries towards King Tricky might have been (their two tribes had longstanding animosity), she would have no interest in seeing the planet fall to the Republic's forces. Of that, Fox had no doubt. The fact that she was allowing the resistance to set up in the fortress was proof of that.

The landing lights came on and illuminated the pad beneath them. Fox sat back in his seat as the craft descended towards the pad. There was little point in trying to see out the window at this point; the transport was several degrees nose-up, and everything was shrouded in fog, in any case. Fox just waited and took a few deep breaths. After what seemed like forever, he finally felt a slight bump as the craft gently touched down on the landing platform. Wolf stood up and stretched as far as the low ceiling of the compartment would allow, then headed towards the side door of the craft.

Fox unfastened his safety belt and stood behind Wolf, and the others followed his example as the door slid open with a hiss. As Fox walked down the ramp and out in front of the ship, he was quite surprised by what he saw. He was expecting to see a few bedraggled resistance leaders hurriedly rushing out to meet him and his team. What he _did_ see, however, was a full-squadron Cloudrunner honor guard dressed in full regalia, and Katt Monroe – also wearing some type of dress uniform he hadn't seen before – walking out across the walkway to meet him. As Fox and his team lined up in front of the transport to meet Katt, the nearest Cloudrunner on the left shouted, "Squadron, ten-hut!"

The twelve Cloudrunners snapped to attention immediately and in perfect unison. Fox was impressed; the Saurian military might not have had the technology or advanced weaponry that most forces in Lylat had, but they were very well disciplined (this particular unit, at any rate). Katt continued towards Fox and his team and gave each of them a warm embrace in turn. Uniform or no uniform – and he _would_ have to ask her about that – she was still the same old Katt. She spoke first. "Welcome to Cloudrunner Fortress," she said, "I wish we had more time to chat, but we have work to do. Come with me."

Even though Fox had many questions, there was nothing for him to do except follow her towards the entrance of the fortress. As he walked towards the Cloudrunners, the squadron leader ordered, "Squadron, salute!" Each Cloudrunner raised his right wing towards the walkway as Fox walked between them. They had done this for him once before, when he had left the fortress after saving the queen's family and, eventually, her planet. This time felt different, though. This wasn't a sign of respect for something he _had_ done; this was confidence in and respect for Fox for something he had yet to do. He wasn't entirely sure he was comfortable with it, but it wasn't really his decision.

Many things about Cloudrunner Fortress had changed since Fox had last seen it. Parts of it still looked aged and dilapidated, but apparently the queen had made strides to make the fortress a viable place for a military. The Federal Corps of Engineers had done significant work on the fortress at the queen's request before the Aparoid Incident. The old wind lifts, which were cumbersome and impractical for anyone but a Cloudrunner, had been mostly replaced by elevators and lift platforms. As Fox walked through the corridors of the fortress, he noticed the sophisticated lighting systems and computer panels that had been installed throughout the base. It truly was a viable military fort now. Fox suspected that King Tricky had vied for comparable improvements to the Walled City.

After walking down a long, dimly-lit corridor, Katt motioned for Fox and the others to join her on an elevator platform. Apparently, they would be descending to the underground levels of the fortress. Fox eyed Katt, noticing two stars each on her collar and shoulders, along with other insignia that, while they looked somewhat hastily-designed, had an air of officiousness to them. As the platform began to descend, Fox finally asked, "What's with the uniform, Katt?"

"I figured you'd ask eventually," she smiled, "You've got one, too. It's waiting for you downstairs. Let's not kid ourselves, Fox. We can't accomplish anything by just striking from the shadows anymore. Oh, that won't _stop_, certainly, but we're going to need more than that. The Mactan Incident brought things to a head, but this has been a long time coming. If we're going to take down the Republic, we're going to need to act and think like an army – and if we have to act and think like an army, we might as well look like one."

How could she think like that? The statements were so offhand that she might have been talking about the weather, for all her tone conveyed. Fox knew she was right, of course, but as much as he respected Katt and her intelligence and leadership ability, he couldn't help but wonder if she had fully thought the matter through and considered all of its implications.

"Katt, uhh…" he put his hand to his head, stammering a bit, "You realize what you're saying, right? Open rebellion? I mean, sure, we're already _in_ open rebellion, but there's a lot more to it than putting stars on a shirt and saying 'I'm a general.' You and I both know it takes more than an army to win a war. And what army do we have? The Saurians? The Eladari? You know they don't have the technology to fight the Republic. It'll be lambs to the slaughter. The _Pleiades_ can't win this by itself."

"Always the practical one," Katt smiled again, "That's why we all love you so much, Fox. It's true, we're trusting a lot to hope here. But we have at least one planet that supports an end to the Republic, and even if that planet is one as backwards as Sauria, we _owe_ it to them to protect them, if we all truly believe in what we stand for. There are times when you have to stop thinking so much about _this_," she tapped a finger to the side of her forehead and then put a hand over her heart, "and start listening to _this_. We have plans for the rebellion – well-laid and well-thought plans, in fact – but the Republic's fleet is on our doorstep, so we don't exactly have time to implement all of those plans yet. But part of that plan starts here," she finished speaking as the lift came to a halt and the door in front of them opened, "with _this_." As the dinosaur-sized door slid open, Fox was completely unprepared for what he saw.

_Aboard the L.R.S. __Aries__ – Gate Sector, High Corneria Orbit, Area One (1602 hours CCT, 2002 hours ship time)_

Nervously pacing back and forth on the bridge of his new ship, Bill checked the wall-mounted chronometer for the fifth time that minute. The _Aries_ was the new flagship of the Cornerian fleet, and the sister ship of the _Pleiades_. If Bill had a single advantage over the enemy – over Fox; Bill _had_ to keep reminding himself the Fox was, indeed, the enemy – it was that he had a ship that could at least match (even if it couldn't overpower) Fox's _Pleiades_, and that Fox was completely ignorant of the _Aries_'s existence. Its construction had begun shortly after that of the _Pleiades_, but because there was so much public fervor over the _Pleiades_, the government had wisely decided to keep the _Aries_ a secret. Until now. Now the _Aries_ waited in space with a host of other ships, high in orbit above Corneria, waiting to engage the Saurian Rebellion. Bill, in the _Aries_, commanded the flotilla. After the premiere had reprimanded him for his failures on Macbeth, Bill was apprehensive about commanding the entire fleet. The Republic and the people of Corneria hailed Bill as the "Hero of Katina," but he didn't feel much like a hero. After what he had done in the Mactan Corridor, he felt like a coward. A coward and a traitor.

Now he was to engage the Saurians in battle again, and this time, with the superior firepower of the _Aries_ and the rest of the fleet, he knew he could win. Yet that was precisely what troubled him. His mission was to bring the Saurian rebellion under control, but the Saurians were a proud race; he knew they would never submit peacefully – but with their technology being so far behind, they would be no match for the Cornerian fleet. They would be crushed, and he would have to be the one to crush them.

He knew he had no choice; he knew it was all for the greater good of the Republic and its people, but knowing that didn't make the fact any easier. He also knew that he would have to face Fox again, and this time he would be facing Fox in battle. The premiere's orders had been explicit: no quarter. The premiere wanted to peacefully bring Sauria back to the fold, but he made very clear that those who resisted would be shown no mercy. Bill wasn't sure how the premiere had that authority; it was, after all, a death sentence for Fox (and everyone on his side) without a jury or even due process of conviction. There was nothing in military law that covered this (and Bill knew the regulations extremely well); even those accused rebellion and treason were entitled to a fair trial. Even if it _had_ been covered by military law, Bill knew as well as anyone that Fox wasn't in the military – he was a mercenary, not a soldier.

If one thing was fortunate in the crisis, it was that the rebellion on Sauria was not yet public knowledge. The media had been forbidden access to Sauria since the Mactan Corridor incident, so although people may have been suspicious of the situation on Sauria, the rebellion was still being kept very quiet. That all of this was his fault was something Bill well knew, but he was determined not to fail on his second chance. Bill sat down in the captain's seat and touched a few buttons on the left arm of the chair. A holographic panel appeared in front of him, but at the moment, it was nothing but a blank red screen. He turned to his communications officer, thankful that his officer corps from the _Pleiades_ had elected to stay with him. "Commander Ferguson," he said wearily, "Check our connection with the Orbital Gate Station."

"Aye-aye, captain," Ferguson answered, addressing Bill by station rather than rank. "Our connection is nominal, sir," the canine officer reported, "No one is at the control station on the other end… hang on," he paused, touching the headphones to his ears. He then turned back to Bill and said, "It's coming online now, Admiral. "

Bill knuckled his forehead just above his brow, feeling a slight headache coming on. "Very good, Ferguson," he said. The screen in front of Bill turned green for a moment, then Beltino Toad's image appeared in front of him.

"Admiral Grey," the research director said, "This is a pleasant surprise. What can we do for you over here?"

"Didn't you get the orders we transmitted?" Bill asked in reply, "We need a gateway to Sauria."

"Yes, yes," Beltino said, "I have the orders right here. I'm powering up the system right now."

Bill watched out the front windows of the ship to see the gate equipment move through its power-up and gate creation sequence. "Ferguson, rig for red," Bill ordered. The bridge lights turned red, and Bill said, "Sound general quarters. We've no idea what might be waiting for us on the other side of the gate. I want every hand ready at battle stations in case there's a fight."

"Aye, sir," Ferguson answered, sounding the alert to general quarters over the ship-wide speakers.

Over the speakers of the ship, he heard the gateway's automated voice – synthesized, but distinctly male – as it announced each step in the gate sequence.

"Zypher-ring now expanding," it said. The equipment's energizer blocks slid into place to form a small metal ring out in front of the gate station. "Main re-block disengaged." The six blocks separated from each other, floating out to six equidistant points and coming to a relative halt. "All blocks, orbits confirmed," the voice announced, "No anomalies detected." Bill had seen this sequence a hundred times if he had seen it once, but something about this gate creation seemed different – wrong. Something didn't feel right about it. "Commencing energy exposure," the voice came again, and six beams of green light emanated from the energy blocks, forming a bright light in the center of the circle formed by the blocks. _Well, I suppose this is it,_ Bill thought. "Expanding gate lens," the voice announced. The circle of bright green light expanded until it reached the blocks, the event horizon rippling playfully with the subtle and usually-undetectable fluctuations of Corneria's magnetosphere. The automated voice finally announced, "Gate creation successful," and went silent.

"Are we clear to proceed?" Bill asked the research director.

"Not yet," he answered, "I'm linking the gate now." Bill waited and watched the gate, waiting for the event horizon to turn smooth as the gate linked. It didn't happen, though. "There, um… It would seem the gate won't link," the old toad said uncertainly.

"What?" Bill asked, "What's the problem?"

"I'm not sure," he answered, "All of our equipment is in working order. Is the signal going through? Yes, yes," he muttered to himself, trying to figure out the problem, "All of the sensor arrays are in place. Maybe if I run a diagnostic program."

"What's going on?" Bill asked.

"It's difficult to explain," he answered, "Our equipment all works, and we're getting a return signal from the Saurian zypher. This station can communicate with the Saurian end, but the Saurian equipment isn't obeying my commands. However…" Beltino studied the readout on the panel in front of him. "Oh, dear," he finally said, "I'm afraid I can't link the gate to Sauria, Admiral."

"Why not?" Bill asked, growing impatient.

"The Saurian zypher ring's algorithmic transistor has been powered down," he answered.

"Well, fix it!" Bill snapped. He immediately felt bad for losing his temper, but old Beltino didn't appear to understand the urgency of the situation. He sat back in his chair and took a deep breath. It wasn't Beltino's fault, after all.

"That isn't possible, Admiral," Beltino said, "That's not the sort of thing I can fix from here. That's a physical part of the machinery. If the power to the transistor has been cut off, that means the wiring itself has been disconnected. That has to be fixed on the Saurian end. And I have the odd feeling that no one on Sauria is going to want to fix it since they're likely the ones who powered it down in the first place."

Bill stewed silently for a moment, then stood up from his chair and walked towards the rear of the bridge, hastily muttering, "Excuse me for a moment." The bridge door opened, and Bill walked out into the corridor. As the sound-proof door closed behind him, Bill let out a primal, unrestrained scream. Did _everything_ have to be working against him? He breathed in guttural rasps, trying to calm himself down and regain his composure. _Cool, calm,_ he thought in his mind as his chest heaved. He _had _to get a grip on himself. His crew – not to mention his _fleet_ – was waiting for him, and he was so flustered he had lost control of the situation. He regained his equilibrium and returned to the bridge, sitting back down in front of the image of the waiting Beltino.

"I apologize Beltino," he said quickly, "Is there _anything_ that can be done? When we linked to the Aparoid home world, we didn't _have_ a zypher on the other end. Can't we do this the same way?"

"Unfortunately not," Beltino said, "Because Sauria is part of a binary, the magnetic fields from the two planets would prevent the gate from forming properly. I'm afraid the gate system can't get you to Sauria, Admiral."

Bill sat for a moment and considered his options. He finally said, "Well, if it can't be done, it can't be done." Beltino gave him a sympathetic look. "Thank you for trying, anyway," Bill said, "We'll just have to think of something else."

"I'm sorry I couldn't be more helpful," Beltino said, fading from the screen. The panel disappeared from in front of Bill.

Bill turned to Lieutenant Levinson, his tactical officer, and asked, "What is the fleet's ETA in the Sauria sector at flank speed?"

Levinson punched a few buttons and quickly replied, "Thirty-six hours, sir."

"Very well," Bill nodded. If two days was the best the fleet could do, it would have to be enough. As the gateway disappeared, Bill turned to the communications officer and said, "Ferguson, alert all commands." He stood up and began giving orders. "Helm, lay in a course for Sauria, best possible speed. Engage now," he said, picking up the microphone from the arm of his chair to speak on the ship's PA. "Now hear this, now hear this," he said, "Because of technical problems, we will not be traveling to Sauria via gateway. All hands may secure from general quarters. All stations, all decks, prepare for immediate departure. Our estimated time to Sauria is thirty-six hours. That is all."

_Well played, Fox,_ Bill thought. It was odd to think of Fox as being on the other side of the conflict, but it seemed he was playing for keeps, so Bill would have to rise to the challenge. _Well played_.


	34. Chapter 34

Star Fox Regime – a fan fiction by Wolf Reynolds  
"Star Fox" and all related characters and trademarks © Nintendo, Inc.  
Story ©2012 Wolf Reynolds

CHAPTER 34

_Assembly Hall – Cloudrunner Fortress, Planet Sauria, Area Seven (1632 hours CCT, 2032 hours local time)_

Krystal could only gape in awe at the scene that unfolded before her. She had taken the lift down into Cloudrunner Fortress with Fox and the others. What she had _expected _to see as the door slid open was a crude war room with various resistance members scurrying about and glancing at maps. What she _saw_, however, was a giant assembly hall. This had once been one of the larger rooms among the fortress's treasure vaults, but it had been converted into this grand meeting hall. The seating in the room was arranged into a three-tiered "U" shape, each seat with its own small desk with a computer screen in its surface. In the center of the semicircle was a lectern, also with an embedded computer screen. Behind the lectern were two small seats. The assembly room was large; the tiered seating area held only about fifty seats, but it appeared to Krystal that twice again as many could be added at need.

She saw King Tricky seated in one of the seats off to the left, and many of the other seats were also occupied, some by people she'd never met and who didn't look to be Saurian. Suddenly, the pieces all came together in her mind. This wasn't just some standard meeting of a ragtag resistance or even of the Saurian rulers. The resistance wasn't just holding a meeting here – they were setting up their own government to rival the Republic. Krystal's heart leaped at the prospect. It made her excited to see the resistance growing into what was sure to be a reckonable force, but at the same time, it frightened her. It meant that Lylat was truly divided. War was coming; she knew that already, but to see it here, manifested in the form of an infant government that hoped to stand against the battle-hardened Republic soldiers (alongside of whom she had once fought), made her anxious.

_How did the resistance come up with this in such a short time?_ She wondered. It was truly a marvel, but Krystal couldn't help but be apprehensive about it; it was as if the resistance had been planning for this war ever since the coup. In truth, she couldn't blame them, but she had long hoped for _some_ diplomatic solution. She still couldn't help but gape at the scene in front of her, though. Looking at Fox, Krystal saw that he was in the same thrall as she. Katt just smiled slyly; she had obviously expected this reaction. Krystal couldn't blame her; everyone with Star Fox had underestimated the resistance, it seemed. The resistance depended on Star Fox, but it was certainly not weak without their help.

Katt didn't waste any time getting things started. It seemed she was, at least temporarily, the chairperson of this makeshift assembly. Krystal and the others followed Katt's directive as she gestured them into their seats, which were front and center, directly in front of the lectern that sat in the center of the assembly. All four of them – Krystal, Fox, Wolf, and Peppy – exchanged nervous glances with each other as Katt motioned for silence. The din of dozens of conversations abated, and Katt spoke.

"Good evening, everyone," she began. She had a very serious inflection in her tone, and she projected her voice well and enunciated every word carefully – clearly the mark of her journalistic background. It surprised Krystal somewhat; from what Falco had always said of Katt, Krystal had a hard time believing that such a character could have so much charisma. Krystal actually found herself being swept up in Katt's speech, and Krystal wasn't often swept up by speeches. "As all of you know, we have very little time before the Cornerian fleet arrives. We have taken measures that will buy us a little time, but all total, I estimate that we have no more than twenty-four hours." She paused for a moment to let her sobering statement sink in. "I know the last few days have been difficult ones for all of us," she continued, "But we all face more difficult days ahead. Tonight, we stand together, united in a common purpose: to cast down the tyranny of the ill-named 'Democratic Republic of Lylat'. All of you here are the leaders chosen by the free people of your planets, and you've made the dangerous journey here at the request of the Cornerian resistance to lend aid to Sauria in her need. I present Tricky the First, King of Sauria."

Tricky walked to the podium, stopping near Krystal and Fox to say, "Wish me luck." Krystal couldn't help herself; she knelt in front of Tricky and gave him a big hug while Fox smiled at him. The young Saurian king stood at the platform and began to speak. "My friends," he began, giving another affectionate glance to the Star Fox team, "I know many of you are probably angry with me right now. My decision to fight the Republic in the open must seem a hasty one. Perhaps it is, but I can no longer stand by and allow my people to be oppressed by those who are supposed to protect them. Sauria is an old world, but in many ways, we are so very young compared to the rest of you. How can we grow up and mature under the coercion of the Republic? If we are to be a part of some greater body, it must be a body that will hear our voice. If we don't fight, we won't survive. We'll die – we'll disappear and fade away, like Cerinia."

_No!_ Krystal shouted in her mind at the painful memory of her erstwhile homeworld, _Cerinia will __never__ die! Not while one Cerinian lives._

"If we are to cast down the Republic, we must become one," Tricky went on, "As Miss Monroe said, you all represent the free people of your planets. You've been given the power to make us come together. If we are to fight together, we must unite under one banner." Tricky nodded to Katt. Katt threw a switch, and a furled flag unrolled noisily directly above the podium. Krystal had never seen this flag before, but it was beautiful: a black field with a large, blue, four-pointed star in its center and a smaller red star near the canton. No letters, no elaborate titles, no individual planets – just the two suns that gave light and warmth to all the Lylatian worlds and made them all one. There was no applause, only a stunned silence. Krystal held her breath, waiting to hear what King Tricky would say next. Finally, he spoke, "I give you Free Lylat!" Then the crowd collectively rose to its feet and applauded thunderously. Tricky shouted over the din, "All of Sauria stands for Free Lylat! Who stands with us?"

One by one, the leaders shouted their intentions, beginning with a Sharpclaw behind Krystal, "All Eladard stands for Free Lylat!"

Then a canine in uniform: "The Katina Liberation Army stands for Free Lylat!"

Then Katt: "Free Corneria stands for Free Lylat!"

It was a marvelous, exhilarating scene, the like of which Krystal had never encountered. She was witnessing the birth of a new people. Now she had a cause again, a purpose. From the feeling she felt from Fox, and from his moist eyes and broad smile, she knew he had, too. There would be dark days ahead, but she knew that it was time for Fox to emerge from the shadows of his own self-doubt and once again fight for something greater than himself. As the other leaders shouted their intention to join Free Lylat – without any voicing dissent – the applause continued. Tricky was wrong; Cerinia was not dead, and would never die. Not while Krystal lived. Not while any of Krystal's children, or her grandchildren, or _their _children, still lived. She rose to her feet and shouted, "Cerinia stands for Free Lylat!"

_Aboard the __F.L.S. Pleiades__, Sauria-Eladard Lagrange L1, Area Seven (1704 hours CCT, 2104 hours local time)_

As he alternated between watching the bridge's tactical displays and watching out the windows of the _Pleiades_, Falco grew increasingly nervous. He knew Beltino's cover story about the gate being sabotaged, but he was afraid Bill Grey was too smart to be tricked that easily. On the other hand, Beltino's part in the rebellion was not yet public knowledge; he and General Pepper were still deep cover, so no one should have any reason to suspect their parts in all this mess – so Falco hoped, anyway. From Fox's last message, things on the surface seemed to be going very well. Something had Falco on edge, though. He didn't know what it was, but he had the uneasy feeling that the battle with the armada was going to begin much sooner than any of them hoped.

He felt Panther put a hand on his shoulder. "What's bothering you, _compañero_?" Panther asked.

"Huh?" Falco began absently, "Oh, nothing specific. I'm just a little tense. Beltino's little white lie about the gate zypher apparently fooled Bill, or the fleet would've been here by now, but you'd think Beltino would call us and let us know."

"His transmissions are probably being monitored," Panther replied calmly. Falco didn't know how Panther could project such a cool, collected air. Falco was good at not showing his nervousness, but Panther was like a rock; he just didn't seem affected by _anything_. He'd even been able to sense Falco's nervousness, which was a considerable feat. Odd as it seemed, Falco had actually grown quite fond of Panther; he was a good wingman and, as far as Falco could tell, a good friend. The two of them had developed something of a working rapport, if nothing else. "The orbital gate station is probably more closely monitored than the Premiere's reception room," Panther continued, "Still, I'm wondering if it might not have been better to simply unplug the thing – that would've kept our good friend from having to lie, and it would have kept those ships away for certain."

"But it would also have kept us from getting any help," Falco said, then cynically added, "Not that any is coming, anyway."

"Falco," Slippy spoke up, "Incoming transmission from the planet's surface."

"Put it on the screen, Slippy," Falco said, then turned to face the front viewscreen.

An image briefly appeared on the screen – a black background with two stars – and then Fox's face appeared. "Falco, how're things going up there?"

"Deathly quiet, Fox," Falco answered, "To be honest, I don't like it. Makes me think something bad is coming. How about on your end?"

"We'll be down here awhile yet," Fox replied, "If you saw the transmission header, you should know that that is our ship's flag now. I'd like you to update the registry as soon as possible. That's the flag of Free Lylat, which is what we've named the opposition government."

"Opposition _government_?" Falco asked for clarification, "So there's an actual revolution?"

"Yes," Fox nodded solemnly, "Two entire planets and virtually all of the various planetary resistance movements. It's not a fully functional government yet; we still have a few orders of business to take care of first, but we're trying to gain as much legitimacy as possible in a short amount of time. We've only got a day or two at most before the fleet arrives."

"So what's going on right now?" Falco asked.

"We've established what we're calling the 'Transitional Assembly'," Fox explained, "They're in the process of determining who the leaders are and so forth," Fox paused for a moment, as if he had to tell Falco something unpleasant but was hesitant. He finally continued. "Falco, I need to level with you," he said, "The first order of business was to establish a defense force. For the chief of staff, they nominated me, and… I've decided to accept." Falco raised an eyebrow; he felt like he should have been surprised by this, but for some reason, he wasn't. Even stranger, he wondered why Fox thought he would be upset by that fact. "Will you stand with me, Falco?" Fox finally asked, "Will you take a commission? Can you serve under me in an official capacity?"

"Of course I can, Fox." As if there could be any hesitation. Falco had been chased, shot at, and nearly cut to pieces by Republic agents; it hadn't been long ago (though it seemed like ages now) that he and Slippy had been running for their lives through the streets of Corneria city. That wasn't the Corneria he knew, and it wasn't a Corneria he liked. "How did Wolf take it?" Falco asked, "You being put in charge, I mean."

"That was the most surprising part for me," Fox answered, "He was one of the most vocal supporters. He doesn't have a vote in the Assembly – I mean, he's not an elected leader of any organized resistance, or anything, so he wouldn't really have anyone to represent – but he was the main one urging me to accept the nomination. If it hadn't been for that, I don't know if I would have agreed to do it."

"What about Krystal?" Falco asked, curious.

Fox sighed. "She knew this would probably happen," he answered, not sounding happy, "She supports my decision, though. She'll likely have her own role to play in all this, too. She has vocalized her concern with the fact that we have no medical corps at the moment, especially since we'll likely be fighting a large battle in the near future."

"So she has a vote on the Assembly, but Wolf doesn't?" Falco asked, somewhat confused.

"No, no," Fox quickly corrected, "Krystal doesn't have a _vote_ on the Assembly, but she does have a _voice_, as does Wolf. It was quickly decided that at this point, anyone who might be able to contribute constructive ideas should have the opportunity to do so."

"On to business, then," Falco said, then hesitated due to the unadulterated _strangeness_ of the question he had to ask, "What are… my orders, at this point, then?"

"Well, first of all, you need to update the ship registry with the Free Lylat flag, but I mentioned that," Fox said, "There's also talk of rechristening the ship altogether, but that's not confirmed yet, and there's no time for it in any case, so for now, just update the registry letters. 'FLS' instead of 'LRS,' got it?"

"Yeah, I can do that," Falco answered, "Is that going to affect how the ship communicates with the Republic's database?"

"We've consulted the highest expert available on the subject," Fox said, obviously referring to Slippy's father, "And he doesn't believe there's any risk. But even if there is, we've decided that it's time to officially claim the ship as ours. Other than that, your orders," it sounded so strange coming from Fox, "Your orders are to continue as before; remain in Lagrange orbit between Sauria and Eladard, and monitor the sector for any hostile vessels."

"Can I expect help?" Falco asked, "I don't like the idea of fighting the entire fleet by myself. There are only four people on board this ship, in case you've forgotten."

"You'll have a full crew at your disposal within six hours," Fox promised, "As far as other ships are concerned, you'll have to hold out as long as possible. Fay and Wolf will be departing shortly with an expeditionary force to Fortuna."

"To recover the arms cache?" Falco asked.

"Yes," Fox answered, "But you have to understand, Falco, that that is _highly_ classified, even among Free Lylat. Consider it a military secret. Apart from us, only about fifty people know that cache exists, and most of them are on the expeditionary force to recover it."

"And how are they going to get there?" Falco asked.

"That's not for you to worry about," Fox answered. Falco was stunned; this _was_ a real military, after all. There wasn't any turning back now, but Falco wasn't sure he liked it. Fox must have sensed his feelings. "I know there are things you'd like to know, Falco," he said, "But I haven't got the time to explain everything right now. I just need for you to trust me."

"Okay, Fox," Falco answered, "But when their ship comes through, should I expect it to show up on the IFF?"

"Yes," Fox answered, "The prearranged transponder squawk is seven-two-seven-one. That's our friendly IFF squawk until further notice. We'll probably change the code every four hours or so for security purposes. I'll send you a rotation schedule when it's closer to time."

"So that's it for now?" Falco asked, "I mean, was there anything else?"

"No, that's all for now," Fox answered, "I think between the four of you, there shouldn't be any problem working out a chain of command. We'll come up with something official when we have time. Just one last reminder. Everyone aboard the _Pleiades_ and everyone with Star Fox, including Wolf and Panther, has the highest security clearance, but if you're with anyone else, watch what you say. Every new government has… leaks, if you know what I mean."

"You don't have to explain that one to me, Fox," Falco smiled, "Or should I call you General McCloud now?"

"Not unless protocol absolutely requires it," Fox laughed, "I have to get back to the Assembly now. We're – I mean _they're_; as chief of staff, I'm just an advisor who's not actually _in_ the Assembly – they're in the process of gathering nominations for the presidency."

They stared through the screen at each other for a long, silent moment. Falco suddenly felt very sad; he'd been Fox's right hand for the better part of a decade, and now he suddenly felt as though that era was passing forever. In his heart, Falco knew that even if he survived the battle ahead and even if Free Lylat won the _war_ and threw down the Republic, things would never go back to being the way they were. Leaders of wars usually became administrators and diplomats when the wars ended, and Falco didn't expect this war to be any exception. He also faced a battle in which the odds would be _heavily_ stacked against him, and Fox, who'd been his only true _friend_ since childhood, was hundreds of thousands of miles away. He knew there was a very real chance that he might never see Fox again once his image faded from the screen.

Fox spoke before Falco could, though: "Falco, there's a lot that's got to fall into place between now and the time I see you face to face, and I just wanted you to know that… well, if the battle doesn't go like we all hope it does… well..." Fox seemed to be having trouble finishing.

"I feel the same way, Fox," Falco cut in, "It's sure been a wild ride, hasn't it?"

"You're not lying, Falco," Fox said, wiping his right eye as subtly as possible, "But… well, it sure has been fun."

Falco couldn't help but smile dryly. Now it was getting mushy, and Falco didn't handle mushy very well. "Go on, Fox," Falco chuckled, "You've got things to do and so do I."

"Yeah, you're right," Fox answered, "We're all down here rooting for you; just keep that in mind when it gets bad. Godspeed, _Pleiades_. McCloud out." And then he was gone. For all Falco knew, he was gone forever. Falco just stared at the blank screen for a few long moments; there wasn't much else to do now. He had to change the ship's registries, of course, but that wouldn't take long. There was so much he felt like he had left unsaid – to Fox, and to Katt. For some reason, his conversation with Fox had gotten him thinking about Katt, and with her being down on the planet with Fox, Falco couldn't get Katt out of his head. He wasn't entirely sure there was really love there, but they'd spent some wonderful times together; even during those rare times when Falco didn't have Fox, he'd had Katt. They'd fought side by side; they'd spent a lot of time together – tumultuous days, and magnificent nights. Despite what Katt might have thought, Falco was beginning to realize more and more that he and she were simply incompatible. Even so, he hated the thought of having to leave his feelings for her unspoken, and he was sure that she felt the same way.

There was nothing he could do about it at the moment, unfortunately. All any of them could do was keep going and hope they all lived through it. Falco felt uncomfortably sentimental. He always tried to be calm and collected; he didn't like when emotion got in the way. _Oh, well, _he thought, _Nothing to do now but get everything ready_.


End file.
